


The New Age of Monsters

by welcometodunscaith



Category: Gamera (Movies), Godzilla - All Media Types, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Pacific Rim (Movies), Senki Zesshou Symphogear
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Canon Divergence for all crossover elements, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Elements of all Godzilla canons, Kaiju can "talk" to each other kind of, Multi, No Beta We Die Like Kanade, Rated for safety, Sentient Kaiju, Symphogear is the main crossover element here if i'm being real, no hard feelings to eva and pacrim though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 166,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23652175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welcometodunscaith/pseuds/welcometodunscaith
Summary: In the year 1954, atomic testing in the Pacific created a monster: the creature known as Godzilla. After his demise, however, the human race knew no peace as strange beasts awoke all over the world in the coming years, beginning the First Age of Monsters. After decades of furiously innovating defense systems, fighting off the kaiju by the skin of their teeth, humanity breathed a sigh of relief as kaiju sightings dropped drastically beginning in 1995. Then, after twenty-five years of relative quiet, the human race is thrust into their struggle for survival once again when Godzilla, regenerated and bigger than ever, triggers a resurgence of giant monsters all around the globe. Humanity's greatest weapons and defenders will be put to the ultimate test, but more than anything, this ordeal will test their resolve, and their bonds. Welcome to the New Age of Monsters, a tale of drifts, songs, and sync rates.
Relationships: Godzilla/Mothra (Kaiju)
Comments: 141
Kudos: 69





	1. CHAPTER I - RESURGENCE

_I remember the smell._

_Smoke, certainly. That was most of it. It burned at my throat and lungs as the fires refused to die down. But mixed in, the scent of death. The acrid aroma of human flesh, burned beyond all recognition._

_I gagged on it every so often, but I had no plans to get myself to safety. Anyone alive in this living hell had to be saved, had to be given a chance. I couldn’t have known that even the survivors were doomed to pass before their times, so I searched on._

_I pushed aside smoldering timbers, chunks of plaster, searching frantically for someone,_ anyone _, who might have made it. To my momentary relief, there was movement, but the relief faded when I saw the little boy’s condition._

_As I cradled a barely breathing child, I felt it for the first time._

_A tremor beneath my feet, shifting the rubble around me and forcing me to rise from my crouch for balance._

_It came again. Then again, and again. I looked around frantically as I backed away, my neck prickling as instinctive terror lifted the hairs on the back of it._

_That’s when I saw it._

_The strongest tremor yet rang out as a shadowy_ something _slammed into the earth. The light of the flickering flames reflected off a set of dark and wicked claws, each bigger than a car. And all of them attached to a charcoal colored foot, which was attached to a leg like a massive tree…_

_I craned my neck as I peered skyward through the clouds of smoke. I sought the face of this improbable monster that had somehow reduced Tokyo to ashes in a matter of hours. I met its eyes, glowing orange, so very like the fires that surrounded us on every side. A horrible, misshapen reptilian head, towering over the remaining buildings._

_It stood upright like a man, muscular arms held in front of it as clawed fists clenched and unclenched. Its skin was a lumpy mess of what looked like immense keloids, and I was reminded in that moment of the survivors of the bombs._

_It glared down at me in the wreckage, and the primal instinct to flee screamed in my mind louder than ever._

_I stood my ground, knowing that a sudden move like running might very well provoke it._

_Its black lips contorted into a purposeful grimace as it beheld me amidst the destruction. Misaligned teeth glinted under the moon. The cavernous mouth opened, and I could not cover my ears with my arms full with the dying child._

_There was a sound._

_A terrible sound._

_These days, kaijuologists often call it the monster’s roar. To me, that deep, howling, echoing noise, so full of hate, betrayal, pain and world-shattering fury, will always be Gojira’s scream._

_In my arms, the child’s chest rose and fell one last time before it stopped._

**Excerpt from** **_The Half-Century War_ ** **, autobiography of JSDF Lieutenant Ota Murakami, published posthumously in 1998 after his death of lung cancer three years prior.**

  
  


**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


**OTA MURAKAMI**

**1936 - 1995**

Ishiro Serizawa paid little heed to the icy nighttime temperature as he stared down at the headstone. The grave itself was plain, nondescript. And yet, here in a cemetery full of dead heroes, this man’s resting place still received the most flowers, the most gifts, so many years after his departure. In the world of kaiju, there may have been nobody more famous than Lieutenant Ota Murakami.

Having survived K-Day was a claim to small fame for pretty much anyone, of course, but Murakami had been different, distinguished among them.

Out of all the men who had been there that day, who had witnessed Gojira’s raid and fought with the utmost futility to push it back, Murakami was one of the few who stayed. He was among the only survivors not to hang up his uniform, and he dedicated the next several decades of his life to fighting the kaiju, even as Gojira’s radiation had begun turning the man’s own body against him.

“Truly,” Ishiro whispered to the grave, “There was nobody like you, Ota-san.”

There was a certain poetic irony, Ishiro mused, to be found in the fact that the Age of Monsters had ended in the same year as Murakami’s death.

A quarter-century of relative peace had ensued. Relative, of course, because the world was downright _infested_ with monsters. Even this period of quiet was occasionally broken here and there, but the incidents were small, isolated. In the twenty-five years since the End, more people were killed by lightning strikes than by kaiju. The worst incident had been six years back, with the disasters in Honolulu, Las Vegas, and San Francisco.

With the lull in the chaos, innovation, forced to advance by leaps and bounds in the last century to combat the threat of giant monsters, was now progressing more smoothly, refining what technology they already had. Space travel was regular; alternative energy had nearly replaced fossil fuels entirely, though that shift had come a bit too late to halt climate change entirely.

Ishiro supposed that certain things could be a lot more wrong with the world, if not for the kaiju.

“Though I am a little biased,” Ishiro chuckled to nobody, pulling his scarf over his mouth as he checked his emails. Gojira’s radiation was increasing, exactly on schedule. In the leviathan’s comatose state, his radiation levels remained low most of the time, only rising around the same time each month. They couldn’t get up close to figure out why, for fear of awakening the great beast, but the popular theory was that the cause was his heart beating, just once a month.

This pattern had gone on since it was first observed shortly after Outpost 54’s completion, and it showed no sign of changing. And if it ever did, it would mean one of two things: Gojira was either dying, or waking up.

As fascinated as Ishiro was by the reptile, he would personally prefer the former.

Of course, watching Gojira wasn’t the most dangerous kaiju-related job on the planet. That honor went to the Hollow Earth teams, or the Skull Island staff. Then there was what happened off-world.

The remains of dead kaiju were taken to space stations to be studied, so that in the case of sudden regeneration, a very realistic scenario when it came to these creatures, a monster would remain trapped up there. There was also the recent manned Mars mission, sent to the distant red planet to study what was believed to be a kaiju, trapped in the permafrost of Mars’ northern ice cap.

That one worried Ishiro most of all. Scans at a distance were inconclusive, only revealing that the monster was _massive._ They couldn’t even tell its body type, just that it was there and bigger than anything they’d seen. 

Thank God it was frozen.

Ishiro chuckled again at that phrase: “Thank God”. Religion had been another aspect of the world that had been thrown into utter disarray due to the kaiju, after all. Christianity had taken a bit of a hit, and according to recent polling and censuses, about 5% of the global population claimed to be Mothraist. “Thank God” had come to have quite a few meanings. For some little religious splinter cells, the term had even morphed into “Thank Godzilla”.

“Thank Godzilla,” Serizawa snorted into the frigid air, mocking the phrase as he began the short walk to his car.

  
  


Of course, Dr. Serizawa wasn’t the only one with Godzilla on his mind. All of the three thousand occupants of MONARCH Outpost 54- nicknamed “Castle Bravo” by some- had thoughts of the radioactive titan floating around constantly. That tended to happen when one lived within the same 125 cubic miles of the ocean as him. Well, technically the same 125 cubic miles of crust, as Outpost 54 had been constructed almost entirely beneath the seafloor, even as that floor sloped downward into the Japan Trench, known to few as Godzilla’s current resting place.

Nothing put Godzilla on the brain faster than looking at him, and that was the only job of one young woman by the name of Io Shinoda. Down there on the bottom level of Outpost 54, she spent her shifts staring out through a massive fiberglass window at the jagged outline of Godzilla, covered in silt and sediment and chunks of igneous rock cooled from the lava he rested just above. 

26,000 feet down, at the bottom of the Japan Trench, a massive plate of rock slowly slid underneath another, subducting into the Earth. The action heated the rock, melting it into hot magma.

Heat is radiation, so it was no wonder that the lizard had chosen to rest there.

Io sighed, drumming her fingers on the desktop to some tune she couldn’t remember the name of. Her empty coffee mug sat a fair distance away, acting as a paperweight for her observational notes. For whatever reason, MONARCH still insisted on storing information on paper as backup for the digital info; Io thought that was a waste of time, but she didn’t make the decisions. She just rested her head on her elbows and glared at the big goddamn lizard, occasionally glancing at the radiation monitor that only changed in any way once per month. It was never a substantial change either. Just a tiny spike, more like a bump really, that didn’t even heat the bone-chilling water this far down.

It was so boring that she sometimes, like right then, wished the big lug would wake up to break the monotony.

As if on cue, the monitor beeped.

Io jolted, as if lifted from a stupor. Turning her head almost robotically, the young woman inspected the readings.

They were higher than usual. Generally, for Big G’s monthly “heartbeats”, the radiation gradually climbed to a set value over several hours, plateaud at a regular maximum for about fifteen minutes, and then declined back to its minimum.

The initial climb had begun a scant two hours ago, and unless Io’s sleep-deprived eyes were playing tricks on her, the radiation value had just _exceeded_ the regular maximum.

Io suddenly had the mental image of a monkey’s paw curling.

“No, no, no. You are not doing this to me right now,” Io snarled through the two-feet-thick glass at the camouflaged leviathan, fishing through her pockets for The Key. The Key she would need to pull the alarm if Godzilla was in fact about to wake. At that moment, despite the well-earned negative reputation that “Goji Duty” had, Io realized just how much responsibility had been put on her shoulders when she was assigned to it.

As she whipped out the innocuous silvery key, she realized that the lives of every person on this base were in her hand. If she turned that key and pushed that button, it would trigger a full-scale evacuation of the facility AND alert the world that Godzilla still lived. If it turned out Godzilla was just having a bad dream and she had issued the alarm for nothing, she would be fired, and there would be global panic. On the other hand, if she waited too long, and the great beast really was about to wake, the evacuation might not finish in time.

Io turned the key, and the glass case over the button lifted with a hiss. She turned her eyes not to the radiation monitor, but to the colossal shape out in the faint illumination of the Outpost’s floodlights. She hovered two fingers just above the big red button, the only sound her heart hammering in her ears.

Until it was joined by another heartbeat.

_Ba-bump._

The monitor beeped angrily as Godzilla’s radiation spiked.

_Ba-bump._

The sound reverberated in Io’s core. It rattled her bones and turned her breaths sharp and panicked.

_Ba-bump._

The silt covering the monster shifted, ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, right where she knew his head to be. Io’s throat felt as dry as the Sahara desert had been before Biollante.

_Ba-bump._

It was so deep. Such an impossibly deep sound. A heart the size of a bus, pumping nuclear fire through blood vessels wide enough for her to crawl through. She knew that could only mean that it was alive, it was awake and it was going to kill them all but that sound that horrible sound froze her brain and her _hand would not move to push the button_ -

The silt shifted again. It slipped from its place, drifting almost lazily to the seafloor. In its absence, an oval of charcoal skin, divided lengthwise.

Godzilla’s eye opened, flooding the observation chamber in an orange light that was so like the flames of hell, and Io pushed the button.

Godzilla blinked. He did not remember it being so bright here when he arrived. Ever since his birth, he had always sought the depths as a place of dark solitude, but now some kind of light blinded him. His regenerated eye, in use for the first time, burned under it, and this made Godzilla angry. He blinked again and squinted. He let whatever-it-was come into focus.

A silver tower stretched up the wall of the trench, vanishing into the rock. The whole entire thing glowed, dispelling the natural darkness. Godzilla felt that familiar rage bubble up inside as his awakening brain connected the dots.

Humans. As usual. Disrupting nature for their own ambitions. It seemed he needed to remind them of their place once again.

At his eye level, he could see one of them at the very bottom of the structure. Even at a distance, he felt her fear. He felt fear in the rest of the structure too. Evidently the human had made the others aware of his awakening.

Her warning would not save them.

The alarm was loud, shrill. Drills as to what to do when it played were frequent, so everyone knew what the evac plan was. Things were meant to be orderly and neat, so that Godzilla would find little more than an empty Outpost. However, drills and the real thing are never the same.

The immediate reaction was that Io had to have fucked up somehow and pulled a false alarm. But when the alarm continued, and Io herself sprinted past, climbing the emergency stairwell looking paler than a ghost, it began to sink in that yes, this was happening.

Godzilla was awake, and pandemonium reigned. All across the base, people dropped what they were doing and got up, moving as quickly as they possibly could for the stairwell. But in their rushes, it wasn’t long before the halls of Castle Bravo were clogged, and the shoving and screaming began.

  
  


If Godzilla were so inclined, he would smile. At the very least, they maintained their fear of him down here, in his domain. For a moment he was tempted to just go back to sleep, having reminded them that he could wake up and wipe them out any time he wished. Instead, Godzilla decided that he had rested long enough. Whatever that blast of theirs had done to him before had somehow strengthened and hastened his regeneration; he most certainly had not been capable of regrowing from bones before the humans and their firestorm. Even if he had been, he would not have grown back in such a short time.

What was more, he had become… different. After the fire changed him, all he had known was pain and rage. He had felt as though he was dying every second, and yet he had been unable to perish for all the raw power that burned in his core. Now all that power was there with none of the pain. It was as though his body had adapted to the changes, and turned the horrible mutations into powerful assets.

He felt unstoppable as he moved, truly _moved_ , for the first time in sixty-six years. His skin was no longer riddled with cankers and growths, but armored by thick scales that stretched smoothly over powerful muscle. His gills _worked_ , funneling strength to every inch of his immense form. The form that had grown _larger_.

Silt cascaded off him as he braced his strong arms on the seafloor, his tail swishing and kicking up clouds of murk in the inky depths. He put his weight on one titanic leg, then another, and pushed himself to his feet as the panic within the human structure reached a fever pitch.

He took a step, relishing how sturdy his stance felt. The humans had taken everything from him in their pursuit of power, but they had also given him every tool he needed to bring about their perfect demise. It was time for them to reap what they had sown, and bear the full brunt of Godzilla’s rage.

The heat gathered on his back.

  
  


Io Shinoda supposed there was one perk to the job she had been given; she was first to the stairwell, and below her she heard the clamoring of the other staff hurrying up after her. She could only hope they had been given enough warning to make it out after her.

No sooner had she thought that when the entirety of Outpost 54 shuddered as an explosion ripped through the lower levels. The stairwell rattled, and Io lost her footing with a cry of shock. In the back of her mind, she knew what would come next: the ocean would claim this place.

Io scrambled to her feet and moved with speed she didn’t even know she had as the roar of the water rushing in reached her ears. To make matters worse, the bulkhead to the upper levels was sealing. She would make it through, but who else would?

She reached the slowly closing doors, gasping for breath, and staggered through. Safe.

Nobody followed hot on her heels like she expected.

The doors were almost shut and all she could hear was the blare of the alarm and the now-deafening roar of the sea flooding in.

“Please,” she whispered to no one. “Just one of them, just one…”

“WAIT!”

Her heart stopped. Scrambling for a foothold came none other than Kenji; the only other person with her job. The only other person who understood her.

He would not make it. Tears spilled freely down her cheeks.

“Io, please you have to get it-”

She didn’t hear the next part, because the water was _right there_.

Face twisted in a mask of anguish, all she could mouth to him was _I’m sorry._

Kenji’s mouth opened in an inaudible scream as the doors shut.

  
  


It had always fascinated Godzilla, the way the crushing pressures of the depths squashed even mighty explosions. No evidence of his atomic blast existed other than the debris floating out of the gash he’d made in the structure. Nothing still in there would live long, but he was sure there were more of the wretched little creatures at the distant surface.

So he kicked. Thick legs and a massive tail quickly brought him up to his fastest swimming speed- and then passed it. Cruel joy flashed in his mind. This strength bordered on unbelievable. Indeed, he wouldn’t believe it if he didn’t feel it flowing through him. As a kaiju, his superiority over the humans had never been in question, but this was something else entirely.

Io hugged her knees in the corner of the transport. She had made it out, ascended to Castle Bravo’s innocuous oil-rig top floor, and would be evacuating safely with the other 1500 MONARCH staff.

And she’d done so at the cost of everyone else. 1500 more people, crushed and drowned below. All her fault. She had one responsibility, and had failed to uphold it.

And that was why she sat silently as the crew of the transport shouted orders, trying their best to get out of the area as quickly as possible. In her heart Io knew it wouldn’t matter, because Godzilla was faster than any ship they had. The evacuation plan had every ship going a different direction so that he would be unable to catch all of them, but whichever vessel he chose to follow would certainly be doomed. Against all logic, Io felt certain that he would pick hers. The chatter of the captain as he eyed the radar wasn’t helping.

“Shit, he’s coming up fast-”

A deafening sound reached her ears then, the horrible shriek of twisting metal. A quick upward glance allowed her to catch a last-second glimpse of Outpost 54 slipping beneath the waves, churning up a whirlpool as the top levels of the facility joined the rest in the depths. Castle Bravo was no more, and the sea continued to bubble where it had once been as the beast approached.

There was no explosion of water, no towering spray of the leviathan breaching like a whale. Instead, as the ocean boiled like a cauldron, a row of jagged spines lifted from below the surface. Charcoal black in color, the outer edges a pale bony white, they glistened under the sun for the first time in decades. Steam rose where the extreme heat of the reptile’s body evaporated the seawater, and all still present just watched. Beating a hasty retreat at this point would be futile.

The spines were joined by a tail, and what a tail it was. It exited the water tip-first, and the onlookers could only gasp in shock as the heavily armored limb revealed itself. Thick plates of rough bone covered the entire thing, forming a heavy, jagged whip that only grew wider as more and more of the tail rose. It hung high in the air, swaying in the sea breeze like a charmed snake for a moment, before the massive appendage slammed back down into the water, capsizing a nearby lifeboat. That got more of a reaction, startled cries ringing out all around the boiling patch of sea. The tail did not return, but the spines shifted.

A pair of strangely mammalian ears, small but prominent, left the water next. They were shortly followed by the rough scales of a great dark head. A heavy brow, a blunt snout and a powerful jaw. A thick, muscled neck, covered in a coat of thinner, almost needlelike spines. Broad shoulders rose up next, revealing in short order the powerful arms attached, ending in massive hands. An enormous chest rose and fell like a bellows with each breath as Godzilla rose from the sea.

Orange eyes like the fires of hell snapped open, and a god surveyed his kingdom.

Io looked up at him with the same expression as everyone else: one full of awe and fear. Godzilla’s eyes swept this way and that, narrowing as he took in his surroundings. The humans were still here. He felt insulted that they had not fled his power.

He decided they needed another reminder, and let the heat gather on his back again. 

Io’s heart skipped a beat at the first sound, and her gaze snapped to the maple-leaf spines.

_Thu-thump thump_

With each _thump_ , the spines changed, flashing from black and white to a baleful blue. Smoke of a similar color hissed from Godzilla’s mouth and nose. Everyone there knew what was coming, and none of them felt like trying to escape it. 

The great black jaws opened up like a cavern, atomic fire lighting the back of Godzilla’s throat. The massive lizard straightened his posture, drew in a breath, tensed his muscles-

And fired.

A beam of nuclear fire, superheated plasma, and charged particles erupted from his mouth, the largest transport ship was blown to nothing in an instant, and all hell broke loose.

Godzilla cast his glare all around as the humans took flight, fleeing for their lives in his domain after willfully trespassing in it. There was only one thing left to do. He took another breath, filling his lungs to the brim with the salty air of his home sea, the sound of his chest expanding audible as a low rumble, and then let it out as a mighty roar. This was not the scream of pain and hatred and betrayal he had released all those years ago. That Godzilla was gone. What left his mouth that day was the roar of the new Godzilla, a monster among monsters, and it contained just one thing: pure rage.

**_SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOONNNNK!_ **

The New Age of Monsters had begun.

**CHAPTER I: RESURGENCE**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, one and all, to the New Age of Monsters. Godzilla is an old franchise, one with a rich history, which has led to it having almost unlimited crossover potential. This is only shown through just how many media it's crossed over with, several of which I enjoy as well. I decided to take several "Godzilla-adjacent" properties that I enjoy and try to integrate them into my own unique Godzilla mythos. Now, obviously, the PacRim/Eva/Symphogear casts are the guests in this fic, so it's their backstories and context that will be altered accordingly. However, I'll still try my absolute damnedest to keep most everyone in character. It's lucky for me that all three of those franchises have relatively small amounts of main characters. You might also find random nods to completely different media within this story here and there, so keep an eye out for the Easter Eggs. Your viewership is reward enough for writing this, but comments are also appreciated. Remember to stay home and stay healthy.
> 
> Also, when reading Godzilla's roars, imagine his Millennium roar. I love that one.


	2. CHAPTER II: Landfall

_ When one is asked about the single greatest technological achievement of the human race, the common answer given is “Mechagodzilla II, obviously”. It’s hard not to see why. Reverse-engineered from a deadly alien robot, a hundred-meter replica of the world’s most infamous kaiju, armed to the teeth and capable in close quarters. Despite the new “Drift” tech being implemented by the Jaeger Program proving successful, the fact that MG-II is still in operation despite its outdated status is testament to just how reliable a machine it is. _

**Excerpt from a 2014 Internet article detailing the advancement of human technology in the face of the kaiju crisis of the 20th century.**

  
  


**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


To be Commander Gendo Ikari was to be a bastion of calm. To be always cool and collected in the face of any issue or problem that befell NERV. He had become exceedingly good at it, making his face into a mask lacking emotion, acting like everything was going to plan. Never once had he cracked in front of his staff, not even when they all watched those parasitic kaiju beat down on EVA-00 and an eight-year-old Rei in San Francisco. He just kept his hands folded, elbows on his holodesk, and issued orders in a perfectly even voice.

In spite of all that, he felt his soul shaking as he reread the message, an automated transmission from MONARCH Outpost 54. There was no information, no briefing to be read, simply two words: Resurgence Protocol.

The worst-case scenario.

The return of Godzilla.

His team hadn’t taken it nearly as well as he had, and there was a frantic bustle all about the Command Deck as NERV’s top staff worked through their mortal terror as best they could. Even Katsuragi, who he respected for her adaptability, was visibly sweating at the knowledge of what they might have to fight that day. Nobody was thrilled at the idea of sending Rei out there alone to fight the radioactive reptile, knowing it would be her most dangerous mission by a long shot. As the fervor on the command deck started to come to a head, Gendo found himself entertaining the idea of calling his son in. EVA-01 was essentially complete, after all, and the alternative would be vast damage to Tokyo and, potentially, even NERV HQ.

Fortunately, he was never forced to make that decision, as a new message appeared on his desktop, this one straight from the top brass at the JSDF. He didn’t like the contents, but it at least spared him the pressure of deploying his own assets against Godzilla.

MOGUERA and Mechagodzilla II were being dispatched to face the monster, and while Gendo personally felt that the outdated mechs would do little more than slow the beast down, time was the only thing Tokyo needed. He glanced at his live map of the Pacific, where a small dot pulsed on a tiny island. If they could pick up her signature on NERV’s surveillance satellites, undoubtedly the Queen was awake, and would be headed their way in short order. Humanity’s mightiest ally against the other kaiju.

He’d wondered since he was young how a fight between Mothra and Godzilla would go.

  
  


Godzilla had learned something: the humans had been busy during his nap. Their warships he had seen before, hulks of gray metal bigger than he was brimming with their puny firearms, but those were no cause for concern. Nothing aboard those had pierced his hide before, and certainly would not now. So imagine the titan’s surprise when a sharp pain rang out on his back, and he discovered that while they could not substantially wound him, they now had cannons of light that set his nerves aflame.

Annoying.

With a simple adjustment of his posture he turned toward one of the ships, swishing his tail faster to pick up speed. More of those bolts of light scorched his skin, but Godzilla could handle a little pain. This was nothing compared to what they had inflicted on him with their explosion all those years ago, nor whatever had stripped him to the bone. 

Godzilla smashed through the battleship as if it wasn’t even there, his speed and size tearing it in half and dooming it to a watery grave. The stinging beams stopped. Satisfied, the nuclear leviathan course-corrected toward his original destination, once again beelining for the city he had destroyed in his first raid. The stubborn apes had rebuilt it, but he would show them their folly.

His growl echoed in the water as Godzilla swam on, intent on his revenge.

Captain Haruo Sakaki of the JSDF had decided a long time ago that he would never get tired of this view. Nothing makes a man feel more powerful than piloting a hundred-meter mecha. He sometimes felt bad for his co-pilots, stuck in MG-II’s arms, torso, and legs, but he’d made it to the head position on merit. He’d earned this view.

The vantage point, and the wind whipping against his face, were the only things keeping him calm in the face of what was to come. He was no greenhorn; in the six years that he’d been MG-II’s Head pilot, he had beaten back the likes of Ebirah, Ramarak, and even Megalon. Haruo knew, however, that none of those three compared to what was swimming their way faster than any boat on the planet.

Godzilla. Something so powerful that its brief reign of terror had convinced an alien robot to take its shape in order to conquer Earth. Mechagodzilla I had been dangerous, but what Haruo now sat within was considered universally to be an improvement. Lost in his thoughts, the young Japanese man almost didn’t hear his co-pilots’ chatter until one of them called his name.

“Haruo!”

“Hmm?” he replied, jolted out of his reverie.

“You with us, Captain Sakaki? We’re fightin’ Godzilla today, man. Can’t have your head in the clouds with that thing breathing down our neck.” 

“Relax, Sonezaki,” Haruo replied. “We haven’t failed before, and today we have backup.”

“You mean drillface over there? Hate to break it to you, but that thing’s not much better than scrap against Godzilla.”

Haruo leaned forward, poking his head out of Mechagodzilla’s head. A dozen football fields away, a second silver giant gleamed in the midday sun. This one stood on treads, armed with more drills than was likely necessary, including one right in the middle of its “face”, resembling a bizarre conical nose. No pilots sat within this mech, as it was controlled remotely due to having a much simpler purpose: bombard kaiju from a safe distance until they turned tail. If Godzilla got up close and personal with it, it likely wouldn’t last long. Even so, it eased Haruo’s nerves somewhat to have MOGUERA there to back them up.

“Say, Captain?” 

“Yeah, Sasaki?” Haruo responded, still scanning the sea for any signs of their opponent.

“You see that on the radar?” asked the torso pilot.

“Gimme a moment, canopy’s still open,” Haruo grunted, sliding back into his seat and flipping a switch.

With pneumatic whirrs and hisses, thick armor plates came to mechanical life, sliding into place and interlocking with resounding clicks and clangs. When they were done, they had reformed Mechagodzilla-II’s “face”, modeled vaguely after the original Godzilla as a sort of tribute. Monitors all around Haruo flickered to life, and his eyes were drawn to the radar.

Something was in Tokyo Bay.

“Commander?”

Gendo turned away from his desk to face the new speaker. A few feet away, back rigid, stood a girl with light blue hair and striking crimson eyes. Her face, like his, was completely impassive, betraying no emotion. In contrast to Gendo, however, her emotionless expression was not a mask, but rather her true face. No feelings swirled within this girl, not even when faced with the possibility of having to fight Godzilla.

“Rei,” the Commander answered her after a moment. “Do you have something to report?”

“Only that if I am needed, I will be waiting with Unit-00.” she replied, voice a monotone as it always was.

“Understood,” Gendo nodded, turning back to face the command center. “If we require you to pilot it into battle against Godzilla, you will be notified.”

“Yes, sir,” Rei said, before turning and heading for the exit at a brisk pace. Gendo sighed inwardly. He truly hoped it would not come to that, but everything rested on how fast the Moth would arrive. If Rei and EVA-00 were forced into action, it would mean her death and the destruction of the Evangelion. Of that, he was certain. Piggybacking off that thought came a realization for the Commander of NERV: this would only be the beginning. As it had sixty-six years ago, Godzilla’s rise would trigger the appearance of dozens of kaiju around the globe, thrusting them into a new Age of Monsters. Gendo Ikari realized that regardless of today’s outcome, he could no longer rely on a single Eva.

Gendo opened a note on his desktop screen and left a reminder to himself.

The bulge in the waters of the bay had been pierced by three rows of maple-leaf spines, glistening in the sun as they drew closer to shore. There was no friendly chatter between the pilots now, only tense silence as Mechagodzilla II remained in a battle stance. MOGUERA had not moved, but its yellow “eyes” had lit up, glowing softly with stored power in preparation to fire its plasma beam. The order was to only attack if necessary, but everything had to be ready to fire at a moment’s notice if Godzilla turned aggressive.

As the bay got more shallow, Godzilla slowed, his massive foaming wake thinning as he approached the shore. Evidently the water was growing shallower.

Moments later, he stopped. The titanic back shifted, a pair of enormous shoulders rose from the bay, and in short order, they were followed by a head and neck. Thousands of gallons of water cascaded from the monster’s scales, dispersing into mist as they fell the long, long way down, and Godzilla’s eyes of fire narrowed as he took in the metal giants barring his way. 

Godzilla could hear and feel  _ them _ behind the silver obstacles; he smelled the fear choking the air as the humans rushed against each other to evacuate. Just as it had happened out at sea, their own panic was working against their survival odds. He lifted a colossal foot free of the bay, and took his first step onto land in decades.

The ground shook.

His other leg came down, and it shook again.

89,000 tons of nuclear fury stood to his full 105-meter height and surveyed his opponents with utmost distaste. He found himself especially offended by the one on the right, which seemed to bear a mockery of his own face. Did they think reclaiming his image would cure their fear?

It seemed to Godzilla that he had a lot of reminders to give to the humans about just what they were dealing with.

So he turned to the vehicle on the left, the one with glowing eyes. As his gaze shifted onto it, it seemed to bristle, panels sliding away to reveal hidden weapons, drills beginning to whirl, glowing eyes flashing.

Godzilla snorted, thoroughly unintimidated, and took an earth-shaking step towards it.

Pandemonium ensued.

This is what it is to be Shinichi Chujo.

You are an old man, very old. Even at your age, you are surprisingly mobile, almost spry. Not in shape, certainly, but more than capable of getting yourself around.

You are sound of mind and body, and despite having recently celebrated your eightieth birthday, you feel you still have a few decades left in you. Your doctor is frankly puzzled by your exceptional health, and you just attribute it all to your faith. Little does he know that’s almost the truth.

Since her first appearance in 1961, and subsequent showings to defend the human race against malicious kaiju, Mothraism had been on the rise as the new up-and-coming religion. Chujo had, naturally, joined up with the fledgling faith early on due to his experiences with the Divine Moth, and even made a pilgrimage to Infant Island in the 1980s. It was there that Mothra had recognized him, and showered him in her life-giving scales.

It was there that Chujo had received the small wooden talisman that he clutched to his chest as he hurried to the kaiju shelter. 

He did not look back for fear of what he might see, but he heard it all the same. The furious roars of Godzilla, the sounds of his scaly fists slamming into the steel body of his robotic doppelganger. He had already watched the leviathan rip MOGUERA limb from limb and hurl its dismembered corpse piece by piece into Tokyo Bay, seen the nuclear reptile take a barrage of artillery from Mechagodzilla and step out of the smoke unharmed.

Chujo did not wish to see any more of the futile fight. Every attack by either party killed hundreds due to the hasty, incomplete evacuation. That was why, even as he hurried as fast as he could down the stairs, he kept a white-knuckled grip on the talisman carved with the cross-like symbol of Mothra. The sounds of the battle faded away as he reached the massive underground space, but the tremors of Godzilla’s footsteps persisted as he continued to whale on his mechanical opponent. Chujo simply stood, eyes closed, and muttered a prayer under his breath. He heard others around him doing the same, some even reciting the same prayer that he was. That reassured the old man, as he felt the Goddess couldn’t possibly ignore what was happening here today.

After a quarter of an hour of the earth shaking, people screaming, and Chujo praying, the cacophony of battle above stopped. When there came no permission to leave the shelter, panic began to spread. If they were still being kept down there, it could only mean one thing: Mechagodzilla had lost.

The ground trembled beneath them as, forty feet above, Godzilla took a step.

His next step was closer, and more than one scream rang out.

The next one was even closer.

Chujo told himself that it was just a coincidence, that Godzilla’s path just happened to pass over their underground shelter, that the child of the hydrogen bomb could not possibly know they were all down here. He repeated that to himself until a chunk of the ceiling glanced off his shoulder.

The next step was a stomp, and Chujo could not look away from the ceiling of the shelter as cracks spiderwebbed through it. 

Thoom, thoom, thoom. Over and over, the titan’s foot came down above their heads, and there was chaos as some evacuees made for the exit while others stayed in place. In the backs of their minds, everyone knew that both options were suicide.

Finally, the ceiling caved in, and daylight poured into the shelter as Godzilla kicked a massive hole in the roof of the shelter.

Chujo craned his neck and found Godzilla’s face, still twisted in utmost fury as he glared down at the evacuees, lips in a snarl and orange eyes narrowed. The screaming turned to wailing as the helpless humans confronted their fate, but Chujo never lost hope. Instead, as Godzilla’s gaze swept over the panicking crowd, the old man began to sing.

_ Mosura ya Mosura  _

_ Dongan kasakuyan indo muu  _

_ Rusuto uiraandoa, hanba hanbamuyan,  _

_ randa banunradan _

_ Tounjukanraa _

_ Kasaku yaanmu _

Godzilla actually looked at him, and then glanced around the cavernous chamber as several more took up the song, until almost two dozen voices rang out in the face of death, calling for help, calling for salvation.

Godzilla snorted and took a breath as a blue glow suffused his spines and lit the back of his throat. As the great reptile opened his mouth and prepared to burn them all to nothing, Chujo simply closed his eyes and smiled, accepting. He had lived a long, eventful life, and had little issue going out here, but he felt deep pity for the young that would burn here with him. A single tear ran down his tanned, wrinkled face as he prepared for the inevitable.

But it never came, and instead there was the ear-splitting noise of the sound barrier shattering, and Chujo opened his eyes just in time to see a blur of orange, yellow, and black slam into Godzilla’s side, toppling the leviathan and sending his blast of nuclear flame careening out of sight.

What came next was a sound Chujo had not heard in years, one that drew more tears from within him. He let them flow freely and spread his arms wide in celebration as Mothra’s shrill battle cry rang out over Tokyo. Over time and over sea, like a wave, the human race’s guardian angel had come.

Godzilla snarled as he pushed himself to his feet, turning his head to behold the one creature on Mother Earth that he least wanted to see.

She hovered over the humans’ hiding place, immense wings beating slowly but powerfully, and glared at him with those big blue compound eyes. She let out that annoying chirp again, angrily questioning him, as though she was unaware of what these worthless apes had done to him.

He offered her no explanation and instead swung his armored tail through the skyscraper next to him, which promply collapsed, kicking up a cloud of debris. Godzilla moved right into it, letting the atomic heat build in his throat, and fired at the moth from his new cover. She dodged with an effortless flap of her mighty wings and dove toward him, bladed front limbs outstretched. He failed to duck in time and felt her claws rake across his skin, ripping scales free and tearing into the skin beneath. Godzilla growled in irritation as he bled for the first time since his awakening, even as he lashed his tail at the massive insect, who once again dodged his blow.

Screeching all the while, Mothra took to the air, flying in a wide arc as she turned for another pass at the nuclear behemoth. Godzilla followed her path and once more spat a stream of atomic fire at her, but he could not turn his head fast enough to match her flight speed as she made a tighter and tighter circle around him. It was at that moment Godzilla realized that Mothra was a lot bigger than the last time he had seen her.

Both of them were.

Godzilla stopped himself from reminiscing and closed his mouth, cutting off his atomic breath. He opted to simply watch the divine moth and wait for her to make a move.

When she didn’t, he grew annoyed once again, and made that fact known to her with a deafening roar, questioning why she refused to fight. Mothra’s response was predictable; she didn’t want to fight him, he should turn around and swim a bit to cool off, all advice she had used in the past. 

Those solutions would not work for him now. He screamed defiance at her and fired his breath again, catching her off guard this time, and Mothra was forced to place one of her wings in the beam’s path. There was a blue explosion followed by a huge midair puff of smoke, but Mothra flew out of the cloud with nary a wobble, continuing to spout her peace-talk at Godzilla. She turned then, flying straight at him, and Godzilla felt satisfaction, for he knew the true fight was about to begin. 

She slowed, evidently not intent on ramming him, and instead turned her body upward and began to flap, her titanic wings immediately stirring up wind forces unrivaled by any hurricane. Godzilla grimaced and braced his stance as the winds hit him like a wall of air, ripping apart nearby buildings and actually pushing him back- back toward the bay. He roared in anger and breathed his flame again, forcing Mothra to abandon her galeforce assault to evade it.

She flew at him again, claws outstretched, and slammed into his side for the second time with her full weight behind it. She weighed a little over half as much as him, but the speed behind her attack added enough force to nearly topple him again. Her two front limbs with their wicked claws slashed at his face while the other two pairs dug into his scales and skin for purchase, and Godzilla wanted her  _ off _ .

So he charged at one of the taller still-standing buildings, slamming Mothra and himself through its superstructure. Steel beams snapped like tree branches under the force of their impact, and his ears were filled with the musical sound of shattered glass, but he felt Mothra release her grip. His wounds began to close.

Mothra did not fall to the ground, easily catching herself on her impressive wingspan, and flapped back up to Godzilla’s head height as her own bleeding cuts were sealed. Their fight wasn’t going to end anytime soon, and both of them knew it. Godzilla found that taking out his fury on her had calmed him a bit, but that did not mean he planned to drop his crusade against the humans. They were still evacuating around his very feet; every movement he made here killed a dozen more of the horrible apes. There was just the problem of Mothra fighting him even as he tried. If he could just put her out of commission, even for a few short moments, he could raze thousands more humans from Mother Earth’s face.

He glared at her with his fiery orange eyes and let the fire burn up his back and into his throat, his bony spines pulsing with light. Rather than dodge, Mothra made a mighty flapping motion, and uncountable glittering scales scattered from her wings, falling slowly in a bright haze in front of her.

Godzilla thrust his head forward and fired, and suppressed a scream of shock when the floating scales took his atomic breath like nothing and  _ reflected it back at him. _

His own flame struck him in the neck and chest like a hammer blow, and the great reptile staggered as he felt his scales char under the radiation. They began to heal almost instantly, but it still burned. Mothra regarded him impassively behind her barrier of reflecting scales, not talking for once, but the tilt of her head asking him  _ What will you do, old friend? _

He hated that look. Even when they had been on good terms, he hated being looked at that way. He hated that she saw right through him.

Godzilla kept staring Mothra down, eyes like glowing embers boring into ones like the clear sky, and charged his breath of death again. He kept his eyes on her, making her think he was preparing for a second try at her barrier, even as he probed elsewhere with his other senses.

Further inland. The feeling of fear and panic as thousands and thousands of humans quite literally ran for the hills, away from this clash of monsters.

They thought they were at a safe distance.

As the fire burned in the back of his throat, Godzilla narrowed his eyes at the divine moth in an expression of smug victory, and before she could do anything more than screech in alarm, he whipped his head to the side and fired at the distant, fleeing humans, his atomic breath covering dozens of miles in mere moments. He turned his neck as the stream of nuclear destruction poured forth, sweeping his flame over a wide area, colossal explosions following in the beam’s wake. Great clouds of blue-tinged smoke rose into the sky as the humans  _ burned _ , just as he had all those years ago.

He would have continued his fire until his lungs were empty, but he was interrupted by Mothra’s forelimbs slamming his jaw closed, followed by her using her grip on his head to throw him away. She hadn’t the strength to lift him from the ground, but he did lose his footing, and let out a grunt of pain as his brow clipped a high-rise.

Her shrill chirps and screeches were so choked with grief that Godzilla’s nuclear reactor of a heart ached, but it wasn’t his fault that she didn’t understand. It was in her nature to protect these tiny creatures, regardless of the logic behind it, and he could not fault her for that. All he could do was oppose her.

He cast one last look at her, and at the distant flames that had consumed so many, before turning back to the bay and taking slow, ponderous footsteps back toward the sea.

On the way, he passed the wreckage of the mechanical imitation, and noted with surprise that one of the presences within it still lived despite the machine’s destruction. He paid the insignificant human no further mind as he trudged through the destruction of his own making. He had done what he came to do, but his vengeance was not yet complete. Another day.

He tuned out Mothra’s grieving screeches behind him as the water’s edge approached. He stared at his own reflection in it, noting the changes in his appearance. He both felt and looked like an entirely different creature from before. 

He found, to his despair, that he could not remember how he had looked before the humans’ bomb.

With one foot in Tokyo Bay, Godzilla turned one final time and beheld his handiwork. Beheld the devastated human city, the tiny corpses littering the streets. Mothra, his oldest friend, perched atop a barely-standing skyscraper, her wings hanging limp in defeat beside her in a way that belied her beauty.

The spark of satisfaction in his chest was much smaller than he had hoped it would be, and so Godzilla sank into the sea filled not with victory, but confusion.

Haruo jolted awake with a violent cough and promptly banged his forehead into something hard. Swearing through the pain, Mechagodzilla’s pilot pushed aside the loose steel panel and ungracefully fell from his seat. When he hit the floor on all fours, a thunderbolt of agony shot up Haruo’s apparently broken arm, and he held back a scream as he forced himself to his feet. In front of him was a gash in MG-II’s faceplates where Godzilla’s claw had pierced through, a tear in the metal big enough for Haruo to walk through. 

He limped through the opening as he pushed his comms with his good arm. “MG-Team, this is Captain Sakaki, reporting. Does anybody copy, over?”

Static was his only reply.

Frustration mounting as he wobbled onto Mechagodzilla’s nose, Haruo practically growled, “Repeat, this is Captain Haruo Sakaki reporting. Is anybody there, over?”

Once more, the only sound in his ear was crackling static.

Something hot and dark in his chest choked Haruo as he raised his broken arm. The reinforced armor of his pilot’s suit had held up better than the limb beneath it, and a small screen on it displayed his vitals. Haruo ignored all the flashing warnings about his own current health and pressed a small button with trembling hands.

The display switched over to his teammates’ vitals, and Haruo felt his heart stop.

Five flat lines.

His face contorted into something hideous as he threw his gaze around, looking for one of them, any of them, to contradict the monitor. All he saw, all around, was the desolation of Godzilla. MG-II’s body lay a hundred yards away, its chest completely caved in and belching smoke. Attached to it, the left arm had been reduced to so much melted slag, heat shimmer from the metal distorting the air. The right arm rested in the side of a building, pushed through several floors at once and practically gushing coolant onto the shattered pavement twenty stories below. Haruo couldn’t even find the legs.

He was forced to accept that all five of his teammates, his friends, were gone.

Haruo gagged on the smoke and his grief, not even hearing the awful cries of pain from the survivors trapped in the rubble, and turned to the bay. Slicing through the water, three rows of maple-leaf spines retreated toward the ocean, the great clublike tail occasionally visible.

Haruo cursed it. He cursed it with every fiber of his being. He cursed Godzilla, cursed himself, cursed the world. He cursed and he cursed and he cursed as a maelstrom of negative emotions whirled within him, building in intensity until it could be contained no longer.

Captain Haruo Sakaki of the JSDF, sole survivor of Mechagodzilla II, stood alone in the ruins of Tokyo and screamed until his throat bled.

**CHAPTER II: Landfall**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's Chapter II. The first bit of OOC comes here with everyone's favorite Evangelion character, Gendo Ikari. I've kept him a scheming, manipulative bastard, but far from the monstrosity he is in Eva's canon. He'll still be his usual hateable self, but I hope to add my own personal touches to him. Otherwise, this chapter serves as a demonstration of not only Godzilla's power, but his relationship with Mothra, which will be expanded upon later. Those two have a history, I assure you. Chapter II also serves as an introduction to Haruo Sakaki of anime trilogy infamy. I hope I can do him more justice than those films did. God, I love writing monster fight scenes.  
> I'm shooting for a consistent upload schedule of Mondays/Tuesdays, but I could post earlier or later depending on a lot of factors.  
> For Mothra's design in this story, imagine her usual fluffy body, but with extra exoskeletal armor and the longer, stronger limbs of her Legendary design. Full specs on her size will come soon, but she's big enough to compete physically with Goji, so that's something. Remember to stay home and stay healthy, and thank you for reading!


	3. CHAPTER III: Valkyries At Rest

_CONCERT ATTACK CUT SHORT? KAMACURAS’S MYSTERIOUS RETREAT_

_Death toll approaches 5,000._

**Headline of a 2017 news article reporting on Kamacuras’s attack on a Zwei Wing performance.**

  
  


**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


Idols. Entertainers. Despite the unique challenges faced by humanity in the sixty-six years since Godzilla raided Tokyo, known to most as “K-Day”, the simple pleasures of the arts had seen no decline. If anything, their prevalence in popular culture had only grown in the decades since the First Age. There were still shows and movies, still celebrities. Still bands and singers.

Such as, for example, Tsubasa Kazanari. Known to the world as Japan’s top idol, a supremely talented young woman. Though not at all the type to boast, deep down she prided herself on that. Even deeper down, she prided herself on her second set of skills, her second life.

Her life as a protector, a sword. Unlike her music, she had not had a choice in becoming one of Japan’s guardians against kaiju, but it did not suit her to lament her lost freedoms in assuming that role. She had thrown herself head-on into her work, tethered to her sanity by just two things: her love for song, and her love for Kanade Amou.

Even three years later, she saw Kanade all the time. In the flicker of a candle’s flame, in the falling autumn leaves, and, in her weakest moments, every time she looked at Hibiki.

How could she not? Kanade had been a fixture in her life, a steady rock to support her. Tsubasa had never felt as close to another person as she had with Kanade. Their time together as Zwei Wing, the idol duo, was something irreplacable for her. Their songs had reached so many people all around Japan, even as they defended those same people from massive creatures behind the scenes.

Shockirus. Skullcrawlers. Meganula and Meganulon. Gezora, Ganimes, Kamoebas. Giant birds of prey. Monsters, not big enough to be classed as kaiju, but dangerous threats all the same. When necessary, Tsubasa and Kanade would deploy to dispose of them before too much damage could be done, and in a discreet manner. All thanks to the Symphogear.

And yet, despite the decidedly abnormal nature of their roles as megafauna exterminators, neither of them had ever expected a gang of monsters to crash one of their concerts. So imagine their surprise when a horde of giant mantises stormed their outdoor arena, followed in short order by something even more terrifying: the horde’s mother.

Kaiju Kamacuras. Seventy meters tall, almost 40,000 tons.

Far out of their league.

And yet Kanade had shown no fear. She had leapt from the stage, pendant held close, and sung those special words for the last time: _Croitzal ronzell Gungnir zizzl_

Clad in her orange armor, thrusting with her spear, Kanade had torn into the younger Kamacuras. Tsubasa had, of course, followed suit in her azure Gear, but they could both only be in so many places at once. They simply had to grit their teeth and keep fighting as the giant insects they could not get to attacked the fleeing audience. Before long the arena was stained with blood, and yet there were few corpses as the Kamacuras devoured their prey.

Their mother had brought them there to feed.

As the numbers of the young Kamacuras thinned, Tsubasa found herself separated from her partner, easily able to hold off the mantises by herself. That was why she was surprised when she heard Kamacuras screech, Kanade curse, and a new voice cry out in pain.

The young woman had whipped her head around so fast that her neck hurt, just in time to watch broken shards of Kanade’s Gungnir clatter to the floor, even as a young girl on the ground behind her sprayed arterial blood from a chest wound.

She’d screamed for Kanade as her love confronted the kaiju. Tried to run over, only to have her path blocked by more of the infant Kamacuras. Screamed again as she heard Kanade’s voice over the gap between them, volume magnified by the power behind her words as she sang her final song.

She’d been pushed back by the wave of energy that encompassed all that was Kanade Amou, a shockwave that tore the younger Kamacuras apart and forced a screech of pain from the larger mother. Kanade had turned to her then, wavering on her feet as what was left of her armor crumbled to nothing.

Tsubasa had caught Kanade when she fell. Assured her that the girl she had protected yet lived. Held her close when the life faded from her body. Cried out her name in pain as she went limp in her arms.

Then Tsubasa had looked up, up at the kaiju that had caused all this. Its natural healing was already working on the wounds Kanade had inflicted, and its colossal compound eyes were leering down at her. Then it had raised one scythe-like arm to crush her, and Tsubasa came to terms with the fact that she could not stop it.

Then, before the mantis’s claw could fall, a musical cry had rung through the devastated arena, Tsubasa had felt all of her strength return to her limbs, and a second kaiju had entered the battle.

Mothra tackled Kamacuras backward, chirping at the smaller insect the whole time, who had responded with angered screeches. Tsubasa, despite the sudden power surge, had just watched as the two kaiju argued, trading occasional blows until Kamacuras departed with a frustrated screech. 

Then Mothra had turned to her, and landed on the bloody arena floor.

Big blue eyes had looked over the three of them; Tsubasa, Kanade’s body, and the bleeding girl, and let out a soft, sad trill.

The glowing golden scales had fluttered from her wings, Tsubasa’s wounds had closed, and the bleeding girl’s gasps had faded to normal breaths, but Kanade had not stirred.

That day, the sword called Tsubasa Kazanari had broken.

That had been in 2017.

Now, three years later, Tsubasa figured she was doing better. Not quite fixed, not tempered to the perfect sharpness she had known at Kanade’s side, but she was a blade once again, and she was good at it. For that, she had to thank Hibiki Tachibana.

Who, as Tsubasa took a rather painful trip down memory lane, was pounding away at a Dance Dance Revolution Machine, determined to outdo their fellow Symphogear wielder, Chris Yukine.

“You dummy, you’re missing half of them!” Chris taunted as she expertly landed every step, racking up a considerably higher score than her opponent.

“I’m hitting them all in spirit!” was Hibiki’s breathless response.

“I don’t think simply ‘spirit’ will carry you to victory here, Tachibana,” Tsubasa piped up from her vantage point, earning a frustrated, almost inhuman noise from Hibiki’s throat.

It had been Hibiki’s idea to drag the two of them out to the arcade with her, with the dragging being partially literal in Chris’s case, to distract them a bit from recent troubling events. That had been her wording, but they all knew what she meant: Godzilla is back, everyone’s scared, and we need to de-stress. Tsubasa, unfortunately well-acquainted with stress, had found herself agreeing.

As devastating as Godzilla’s rampage had been, the damage was relatively localized in the Minato, Shinjuku, and Shibuya Wards. In contrast to the 1954 raid, his leftover radiation was not only less dangerous, but had a shorter half-life. Estimates for when reconstruction would start were optimistically at three months; a far cry from the fifteen years needed after Godzilla’s original attack.

As such, few places were closed down in the rest of Tokyo, offering the perfect opportunity for leisure ahead of the hardship that would await not only the Wielders, but the world at large.

Tsubasa held her fists out in front of her and began to count off under her breath, lifting a finger for every name that came to mind. “Kumonga, Varan, Scylla. Those woke up the same day as the raid. The next day, Shinomura and Megalon. Yesterday it was Zilla and the Gargantuas.”

All over the world, just as they had those many years ago, kaiju were waking up in response to Godzilla’s roars. Just how his roar managed to possibly carry so far still puzzled bioacoustics specialists. There had been no attacks as of yet besides the nuclear leviathan, but with how active the kaiju were becoming, Tsubasa knew it was only a matter of time. The world was better equipped to defend itself- the crimson pendant tucked into her collar was testament to that- but some of the kaiju had not been seen since 1995. It worried her to wonder: what if the others had changed too, in much the same way as Godzilla?

How would humanity handle kaiju that had become twice as deadly? 

“Tsubasa-san,” Hibiki gasped, practically falling off the DDR machine in her defeat, “Do you… want a turn?”

Chris, barely breathing hard, cast her purple eyes to the idol, offering a silent challenge. Tsubasa could only give her a bemused smile in reply.

“C’mon, senpai,” Chris drawled, her own smile teasing as she leaned on the machine, “What’s the matter? Scared we might find something I can beat you at?”

“Not at all, Yukine,” Tsubasa said, waving her hand in the general direction of the other girls, “I really just don’t feel up to it right now. Perhaps some other time.”

At that, an uncharacteristic frown slid onto Hibiki’s face. Sidling up to Tsubasa, the younger girl regarded the blue-haired pop star with a critical orange stare. It was uncanny, really, how well Hibiki had always seen through her.

“Tsubasa-san,” she said slowly, voice musical, “We’re here to have fun, remember?”

Tsubasa made a noise of affirmation, meeting her junior’s intense gaze.

“I know you’re stressed out with what’s been going on. Everybody is. But if you let that stress just sit on your shoulders, you won’t be able to bear the weight forever.”

“In simpler terms, you need to relax,” Chris chimed in, striding over quickly. “If you fight monsters all wound up like this, it won’t go well.”

“We can’t have our strongest teammate off her game if Titanosaurus comes ashore, y’know?” Hibiki continued, gently placing a hand on Tsubasa’s shoulder.

Tsubasa sighed. “I know, you two. It’s just so hard not to worry. You all haven’t seen what I’ve seen. You haven’t fought one of them firsthand. I’m certainly stronger now, but we’ve all learned what kinds of devastation the kaiju used to unleash. What will we do if they’ve grown stronger, too?”

“We’ll win, obviously,” Chris replied, her hand on Tsubasa’s other shoulder. Tsubasa almost reflexively covered both their hands with her own. “We’ve dealt with plenty of shit already, and we’re getting stronger all the time. Unless Godzilla walks outta the harbor again, I think we should be able to handle anything if we’re together.”

“Thank you, you two,” Tsubasa whispered. “I can rest assured knowing you’re by my side. Even so, I’m afraid there’s one more slight worry of mine…”

Chris and Hibiki glanced at each other, then back at their friend.

“There’s that concert coming up… the one with that foreign idol.”

Hibiki perked up at that. “Oh, yeah! That lady who topped the American charts… what was her name? Maria, right?”

Chris nodded. “That was it. Killer voice on her, I’ve gotta say. You two performing together will be a treat to see, senpai.”

“I’m worried about not meeting her expectations,” Tsubasa confided, coaxing relieved sighs from her friends, happy to see that she could still care about the more mundane things.

“Come on, Tsubasa-san. You’re THE Tsubasa Kazanari! She should be worried about her impression on you!” Hibiki laughed.

That, at long last, got a chuckle out of Tsubasa. “Perhaps,” she admitted, supremely thankful in that moment for her new friends.

Marshal Stacker Pentecost had been to all the other places. He’d been in all those JSDF hangars, NERV Headquarters, both of S.O.N.G.’s bases. He supposed they were all impressive in their own ways, but in his biased opinion, nothing compared to the Hong Kong Shatterdome. Everything was so much more intimate, more lively. Those other places needed less staff, less work to be done. But here in his domain, there was never quiet. When his night terrors forced him awake in the wee hours of the morning, he could always come out to the main hangar and be greeted with the same hustle and bustle as every other hour of the day.

To him, out of all the agencies and organizations devoted to protecting humanity, his felt the most human.

Genjuro Kazanari had called him out on the bias in that opinion, but it wasn’t Stacker’s style to care. He’d just laughed it off, joined shortly by S.O.N.G.’s redheaded commander. Gendo Ikari had just given him that unsettling silent stare, but Stacker was less affected by that than most people as a product of having known the man since their college days. He supposed it was an interesting turn of fate that both of them had eventually ended up in the business of defending humanity by commanding giant robots, though Stacker was unfamiliar with Gendo’s brand of mecha.

He only knew what everyone else knew: that the machine called EVA-00 had been transported to San Francisco in 2014, and single-handedly slain the kaiju Hokmuto and Vemuto. It had come as a shock to most that the Evangelion even existed, but Stacker had just been curious about how it worked. It was lighter and more mobile than his Jaegers, yet somehow took hits far more effectively. Unfortunately, his busy upcoming busy schedule wouldn’t leave him any time to ask Ikari about it. Not that he wasn’t already busy, of course.

If you asked a person on the street what the Jaeger Program of the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps was for, they would tell you “They’re a line of defense against kaiju, duh”. And while this would not be incorrect, the Program had another, more secret purpose: head off the Breachers.

They were still working on the “how” and the “why”, but in the year 2012, a strange kaiju had erupted from the floor of the Pacific Ocean. Its signature unlike anything ever seen, it had then proceeded to come ashore on a remote island in the South Pacific, terrifying locals. In short order, Manda had surged from the water and angrily engaged it, but what shocked the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps was the ease with which the sea serpent tore apart the new creature. Its hide seemed almost flimsy compared to known kaiju, and it showed no signs of a healing factor. And yet its blows were fierce, and it continued to fight regardless of injury until Manda tore its head from its body. Due to the small scale of the attack, there had been no need to go public about it.

Then, four months later, it had happened again. The second time, the kaiju had not had the chance to come ashore before Manda fell upon it, and underwater, its end was even swifter than the first’s. Recovery of the corpse had brought about the most shocking revelation of all: the new monster, despite its different shape, was a genetic clone of the first.

When a pair of them, the third and fourth genetically identical monsters, destroyed once again by Manda, had emerged after another four months, concerns arose. If these creatures were going to come on a schedule, and in greater numbers, even the Guardian of Mu would not be able to keep them all down.

Thus came the Jaeger Program, the aim of which was to mass-produce mechs capable of taking down these “Breacher” kaiju. That aim was hidden behind the guise of “preparation”, as knowledge that new kaiju erupted from the seafloor so often could very well destabilize the tentative “peace” since the end of the Age of Monsters.

Since 2013, the program had fended off Breachers from the various Shatterdomes scattered around the Pacific Coast, with a good bit of help from Manda, ever the vigilant protector of her sunken continent. The Jaegers, far more cost-effective than behemoths like MG-II, did their jobs admirably, and managed to keep things under the radar for seven years.

But times were changing.

“Mister Choi,” Stacker called to his chief technician, “Where are we on locating our missing pilot?”

“Marshal,” Tendo Choi responded, swiveling in his chair to face Stacker. “Glad you’re here, because that actually just came in. Know how the US and Canada are testing out a kaiju wall in Alaska?”

“I’ve heard about it, yes. Not the worst idea if the intention’s to stall a kaiju, but they’re fooling nobody if they think a bunch of concrete can turn back even a Breacher, let alone something like Godzilla.”

“Well, turns out Becket’s been working on it for a couple of years now, living in an apartment in Anchorage. We can have someone out there by tomorrow to grab him.”

“No need,” Stacker replied, standing a little straighter. “I’ll get him myself.”

Tendo lifted an eyebrow, but knew better than to protest. “I’ll set up transport then, Marshal. Do you really think you can convince him?”

Stacker peered over Tendo’s shoulder at the man’s holodesk, eyeing the profile on display.

“Good Jaeger pilots are hard to come by,” the Marshal admitted, “But great ones are even more rare. We’ll need him for the storm that’s coming. I think he knows that.”

Godzilla still wasn’t entirely used to this. Being this… huge. His new size hadn’t affected much in his fight with Mothra, but he had yet to attune his spatial awareness to being double his old height. He kept hitting his head on the ceiling and snagging his tail around corners.

Even so, he pressed on, deeper down into the tunnels. It had been a long time since he was down here, but very little had changed. Mother Earth, unlike him, was the same as she always was. The damp earthy smell that faded into the smoky heat the further in he went. He could still sense his destination ahead, way down near where the solid rock ended and the sea of magma started.

He pushed through an opening that he distinctly remembered being wider, scratching at his neck with a massive claw. The new, almost quill-like spines that covered the back and sides of his muscular neck were welcome natural protection, but in the few days that he’d been awake, they had proven to have an annoying downside of being easy shelter for smaller creatures.

With a light grunt, he shifted a couple of the spines around and scratched at the skin beneath, dislodging a three-meter Shockirus. It easily survived the hundred-meter fall with its reinforced shell, then scuttled away into the dark, likely to be eaten by a Skullcrawler.

Godzilla swung his great head this way and that, scanning the dimly lit cavern. Dense vegetation rose from the floor and hung from the ceiling, but he knew his target ought to be easily seen.

There- spikes above the treeline. With slow, ponderous steps, the nuclear leviathan moved closer to the sleeping form of the kaiju, a gentle rumbling in his throat.

The other creature did not stir.

Godzilla let out a soft roar then, one of concern, and stomped the ground. That got more of a reaction; the creature jolted in its sleep, tail reflexively lashing side to side. Godzilla resumed the throaty rumble, almost like a purr, until the other’s large blue eyes opened.

The other kaiju let out a startled wail, scrambling to its feet and glaring at Godzilla. To his credit, Godzilla took this in stride and simply continued his rumbling, even going as far as to lean forward a bit to appear shorter. Fortunately, his old friend had grown too, so their heights relative to each other were about the same as when they’d last met.

Evidently though, Godzilla’s appearance had changed a bit too much. Anguirus roared a warning at him, and hurt flashed in Godzilla’s orange eyes, making the great beast actually take a step back. Anguirus continued to eye him warily, spiked tail raised and ready to attack if need be, but the quadruped was clearly puzzled at Godzilla’s reaction to his roar. This creature so much larger than he was hesitating?

But then, as the grogginess of millions of years of sleep began to clear from his mind, Anguirus began to see the similarities. The same body shape, the arrangement of his dorsal spines, the tapering form of his tail. It didn’t look exactly like him, but the sounds he was making confirmed it: somehow, this was his old friend, come to wake him.

Anguirus’s tail fell, and he let out a joyful wail as he finally recognized Godzilla. The shorter kaiju bounded forward, shaking the earth with his new, massive form, and lightly headbutted Godzilla in the stomach. Godzilla let out a startled cry and steadied himself, glancing down at his friend. Anguirus’s eyes were once again bright and welcoming, and Godzilla felt the first truly positive feeling since he’d awoken surge in his breast. He was happy.

When Anguirus asked him why he looked so different, the child of the atomic bomb realized that the two of them had a lot of catching up to do.

**Chapter III: Valkyries at Rest**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this week, with not a ton of things going on. Simply some introductions and set-up for the coming events. Here we're introduced to S.O.N.G.'s Symphogear wielders as well as Marshal Stacker Pentecost, top brass of the Jaeger Program. I like the idea that in a world already experienced with giant monsters, the arrivals of Pacific Rim's relatively weak kaiju wouldn't even be newsworthy. And of course, I had to have Godzilla reunite with ONE friendly face; his old pal Anguirus.  
> I promise that More Stuff will happen next week, including the introduction of a certain young man with a very troubled home life. Remember to stay home and stay healthy. Comments are not required, but are encouraged because they make my brain release happy chemicals.


	4. CHAPTER IV: You Can(not) Tame the Skies

_“God’s In His Heaven. All’s Right With the World.”_

**Slogan of NERV, Tokyo-based kaiju defense organization. Known for advanced, agile mechs it employs, known as “Evangelions”.**

  
  


**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


Shinji Ikari, age fourteen, didn’t necessarily mind the quiet. He was used to the quiet, the kind that let him turn inward and just stop _being_ for a moment. That sort of quiet he enjoyed. He did not enjoy the quiet he was experiencing as he stood in front of a public phone, waiting for his ride. He’d gotten there an hour ago, and the woman meant to pick him up was nowhere in sight. Shinji supposed the weather could be worse.

Bored, Shinji fished out the two letters from his pants pocket. The smaller of the two was white, nondescript, and read only:

“Shinji, you are needed. -Gendo Ikari”

It was, funnily enough, the most words Shinji’s father had directed at him in six years. And there were only four of them.

The second letter was more of a postcard, really. In direct contrast to the nearly blank rectangle of paper Shinji’s father had sent, this one featured a photograph of an attractive woman with purple hair, lounging at a beach somewhere. The woman’s swimsuit was actually rather modest, which Shinji was thankful for, otherwise the picture would practically be a pin-up. Next to the photo, in messy but legible scrawl, was a brief introduction that confirmed the woman in the picture was also the letter’s sender, as well as the instructions he had followed up until that moment.

Shinji reread them aloud quietly, making sure he hadn’t missed a step. “Misato Katsuragi. Of all the pictures she could’ve included, why that one?”

Stowing the letters back in his pocket, the teen cast his eyes around. The quiet pervaded, and he could almost feel the shadow of Godzilla looming over him. The kaiju’s attack had been in the center of Tokyo, meaning there had been little danger out here in the outskirts, and yet there was no activity. Whoever might have returned to their homes from evacuation were choosing to stay indoors. There weren’t even any wildlife sounds, just the wind blowing.

Shinji perked up. Why was the wind so loud? And why was it getting louder?

Shinji stepped out into the middle of the deserted street as a gust whipped at his clothes, listening intently. Suddenly he realized he could make out faint concussions, like distant explosions, as well as an odd rhythmic noise that was getting louder even faster than the wind was.

With a delayed start, Shinji realized it was the noise of a helicopter’s rotor failing.

The aircraft came into view then, spiraling out of the sky over Shinji’s head, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake. The explosions were closer now as well, and the wind was practically howling.

And through it all, one new sound, the loudest sound, cut its way to the boy’s ears.

A powerful, rumbling cackle. One he had heard in documentaries, but never in person.

Fear paralyzed him as he recognized it, just in time for the screeching of tires to add itself to the cacophony.

A blue sports car screeched to a stop right next to him, and before Shinji could react, the passenger door had opened and he’d been yanked into the seat. The shock of the motion brought him to his senses.

“What-”

“Oh, shit, he’s literally right there,” the woman in the driver’s seat mumbled as she straightened back up, closing his door. “Misato Katsuragi, NERV Operations Director. Sorry I’m late, Shinji-kun.”

“I-I’d say you’re right on time,” Shinji stammered, pulling himself upright and fastening his seatbelt as Misato floored it, making a wide u-turn. “Was that actually-”

“See for yourself,” Misato replied, pointing backward with a thumb as she focused on the road.

Shinji rolled down the passenger window and stuck his head out, only to feel the blood leave his face at what he saw.

Dozens of attack helicopters, from Apaches to Ospreys, spat firearms at a truly gigantic shape in their midst, hovering in place with titanic wingbeats. The flying creature wheeled about, taking stock of its opponents, and clicked deep in its throat, clearly unimpressed. It raised its great wings high, smoke trailing from them, and then brought them down so fast that the tips broke the sound barrier. 

A shockwave of wind pressure radiated away from the flying monster as the sheer force of its flap launched it hundreds of feet higher, and Shinji gasped as the wind blast knocked the helicopters from the sky one by one like mere toys.

“Get your head back in here!” Misato yelled, pulling Shinji back into the car by the shoulder as the wind gust buffeted their vehicle. Miles behind them now, the sharp cackle rang out over the Tokyo suburbs once again.

Rodan, one and only Lord of the Skies, announced his return.

Rodan flapped his way over to a hill, splintering trees underfoot as he landed gently. He was still a fair distance away from where his old friend had appeared, but he could smell him even this far away. Folding his wings, Rodan balanced himself on all fours, the smoke and embers from his wings lighting some of the undergrowth on fire. He supposed that could get annoying, but he would not fault his own evolution. 

Returning to his original, fiery form had not taken as long as he had expected, but what had surprised the immense pterosaur had been his increased size upon emerging from the volcano. His wings had been destructive before, but now he was certain he could raze even the sturdiest of the humans’ structures. Speaking of the humans, they didn’t seem to be trying very hard to get rid of him. He had been hoping for a good fight from the crafty little apes, but that seemed to be beyond them at the moment.

Maybe if he were to motivate them somehow, they would take him more seriously.

Cackling once more, Rodan rose onto his legs, spreading his great dark wings. Alternating between black, brown, and a ruddy red, they fanned out to their full 290-meter span, shedding half-cooled globules of lava and ash. Rodan braced his stance, then pushed off the ground, letting his wings catch the air as he fell from the hill. He flapped once for some altitude, then began to gather speed.

It had scarcely been a few seconds before the mass of air being swept beneath his wings was powerful enough to fling cars about like they were nothing.

A few seconds more, and homes came free of their foundations.

The lift ride into NERV HQ was already considerably smoother than Misato’s driving had been, allowing Shinji to finally relax a bit. He glanced over at the woman, who had also leaned back in her seat with a sigh. Then she turned to him with a warm smile,offering her hand.

“So sorry about all that. Nice to meet you, Shinji-kun.”

“Likewise, Misato-san,” Shinji replied, shaking her hand. “So… should we be worried about Rodan being back?”

Misato’s smile vanished, replaced with a serious look. “His timing’s kind of funny, actually. Fate has a sense of humor. I think I’ll just let your father explain it to you. In the meantime, you should be able to see the Geofront soon.”

“The what?” Shinji asked. Misato just jerked her head at the windshield. There was light ahead.

The lift suddenly was in a gigantic underground cavern, at least two miles high and easily a dozen across. It was bright, as though they had never even gone underground, and Shinji quickly discovered that the source of the light was massive patches of bioluminescent moss hanging from the cavern’s ceiling. Lakes dotted the Geofront’s floor, along with a few dense forests, open plains, and even what looked to be crop fields.

And, right in the middle, sticking out of the impossible beauty of the underground world like a sore thumb, was a big black pyramid that could only be NERV HQ.

Shinji turned back to Misato, eyes full of wonder. “What…”

“An old Hollow Earth exit, sealed off from the rest of the tunnels by the passage of time. As such, there weren’t any nasties to deal with when they found it, and over the past twenty-five years, it was converted into our base of operations. It’s actually a bit bigger now than it was then!”

“Incredible,” Shinji whispered. “And that’s HQ, down there?”

“Right you are,” Misato affirmed. “We’re close enough now that you can probably read our logo on the side.”

Shinji rolled down his window again and squinted at the red emblem. “God’s In His Heaven… All’s Right With the World? I never really took Father for a religious man…”

Misato chuckled. “He isn’t; that doesn’t refer to the Christian God, but rather the God that started all this. The one that changed the world.”

Shinji nodded, understanding. “God _zilla_ . But… if he’s back, wouldn’t that mean all _isn’t_ right with the world?”

Misato blew out a breath, leaning on the steering wheel. “That’s exactly right, Shinji-kun.”

She left out that that was exactly why he was being brought there.

“...What?”

Shinji felt like he was drowning. Or having a bad dream. Maybe he was having a nightmare _about_ drowning.

“I will not repeat myself again. You will pilot Evangelion Unit-01 into battle against Rodan.”

“Are you insane?” Shinji screamed. “I’ve never done anything like this before! How am I supposed to beat something as strong as Rodan in my first fight?!”

“You need not defeat Rodan,” Gendo said, monotone unchanged, “You need only stall him until a Maser unit arrives.”

“That’s still insane, Father! And why me? I know you have more than one of these things, so there must be another pilot!”

Gendo remained impassive. “She is currently undergoing medical treatment. Would you have her pilot in an injured state, Shinji?”

Shinji found he had no response. How was he supposed to possibly pilot the purple-and-green mecha that sat just to his left? His father asks for him for the first time in years, and it’s to demand the impossible from him?

Shinji found his confusion turning into anger. “So you only called me because you need someone expendable. I get it, Father. I’m not getting in that robot.”

“Shinji. You are the only one who can pilot that Eva to the fullest.”

“I WON’T!”

There was only silence as Shinji’s shout echoed in the Eva Cage. Then, it was broken by his father’s voice, hard and cold.

“Very well,” Gendo said, tapping a comm by his ear. “Ritsuko, bring Rei to the cages. We’re deploying her in Unit-01.”

“Commander!” came a cry from Misato. “She can’t possibly-”

“She’s alive, isn’t she?” Gendo cut her off. “If she’s alive, she can pilot. And that makes her more useful to us than Shinji at the moment.”

Shinji almost staggered at those words, as if a physical blow had struck him.

A warm hand caught his shoulder and steadied him, but he couldn’t even thank Misato as she glared fiercely up at his father. Then, through the haze that had settled over his mind, Shinji heard the squeaking of wheels, and turned his head as a cot was rolled onto the deck.

Numbly, Shinji walked over to it as technicians began to prepare Unit-01. On the cot, heavily bandaged and barely breathing, was a girl his age. He was immediately struck by her strange, light-blue hair, but what surprised him even more was when her uncovered eye opened, and a deep crimson orb met his own gaze. It wasn’t a color he had ever seen in a person’s eyes before. 

“Greetings,” she whispered weakly. “You must be… pilot Ikari.”

“H-how did you…”

“You… remind me of the… commander.” she replied.

“He... won’t really make you do this, will he? This is just to get me to crack and climb inside that thing.”

The girl tilted her head just a little, almost imperceptibly, and forced out, “No. He will have me… pilot in your… stead. He is… that sort of man.” A trickle of blood leaked from her mouth, and Shinji felt his eyes go wide.

“W-what… what’s your name?”

The girl blinked, as if not understanding the point of his question, and then responded quietly, “Ayanami. Rei Ayanami.”

Shinji gritted his teeth and sighed, then straightened and turned his head upward, where he could still see his father through the glass. He clenched his fists at his sides and put as much defiance as he could into his expression.

He cried out, “Father!”

Gendo’s reply, empty as always: “What?”

“I’ll pilot it. I’ll get in that Eva or whatever you call it. Not because you want me to. So she doesn’t have to.”

Gendo nodded. “Let’s get you prepared then, Shinji. Thank you for making the correct decision.”

Shinji’s bravado slipped a little.

Had his father just _thanked_ him?

Shinji was beginning to regret his decision.

Encased in its cage, Shinji hadn’t realized just how tall Unit-01 was, and now he was staring down at the streets of Tokyo from 85 meters above them, submerged in a liquid that smelled uncomfortably of blood. They had called it LCL, a liquid that, somehow, he could also breathe in.

And then there was the dot labeled “RODAN” on his heads-up-display that was rapidly closing in on the dot that represented him.

“How are you feeling, Shinji? Everything responding alright?” came the smooth voice in his ear belonging to Dr. Akagi. “Your sync rate is holding steady at 41%, which should make things relatively smooth for your first mission.”

“This is so weird,” Shinji mumbled. “How do I feel what the mech is feeling?”

“It’s a machine-neuron bridge system we’ve perfected; it’s also how you can move the mech without moving yourself much. Speaking of which, try taking a step.”

Shinji gulped, turning his eyes to the butterfly yoke grasped tightly in his hand. He pushed forward just the slightest bit, barely exerting his shoulder, and tried to imagine the mech walking. Then he felt the phantom sensation of his own leg moving, bending off the ground, and very gently pulled the yoke back to its starting position, trying to control his footfall with his mind.

Unit-01’s armored sole came down harder than Shinji intended, shattering asphalt, but he had still taken the step. Shinji let out the breath of LCL he had been holding, and then repeated the motion with Unit-01’s other leg.

“Well done, Shinji,” Dr. Akagi said. “Prepare yourself.”

Shinji almost asked her, “For what?” but stopped himself when he remembered the circumstances that had placed him in Unit-01’s Entry Plug in the first place. Instead he thumbed one of the yokes’ several triggers and turned his head. The Eva’s head turned with his, keeping their lines of sight continuous. When he caught sight of a winged shape far up in the air, any wonder and curiosity about how this mech worked vanished. 

Rodan was _circling him_.

Rodan was confused.

His eyes were sharper than most creatures’. Flying as high as he could, at the speeds he was capable of, he had to have keen vision, and as such he could see everything on the ground very clearly even at his present altitude. Even up here, far out of the reach of those pesky steel sparrows of the humans, he could make out individual people fleeing his presence. But what really caught his attention was the bizarre creature, standing amidst the buildings. 

Taller than he was, purple and green, almost humanoid in shape save for its long, gangly limbs. Blank white eyes tracked him in circles, and to top off the unsettling things about this creature, it _smelled._

It was an unpleasant stench, some kind of awful mixture of things he’d smelled before, plus the easily-identifiable odor of the metal that armored it.

Rodan narrowed his enormous blue eyes and began his descent.

Shinji was surprised to find that he was taller than Rodan now. He hadn’t comprehended the Evangelion’s true size until he was looking _down_ at a kaiju. Even so, Rodan had not ceased to be intimidating, studying him as his great wings shed lava and ash onto the streets of Tokyo. The immense pterosaur, head tilted, was sizing up Unit-01, quietly vocalizing with deep, rumbling chitters. In that way, he was more like a bird than a flying reptile, but the taxonomy of kaiju was known to be all over the place.

Finally, content with his observation of the fighting machine, Rodan let out a short variation of his trademark cackle and rose onto his hind limbs, lifting his powerful arms from the street and spreading the absolutely immense wings attached to them. Each one was longer than Unit-01 was tall, and with both spread wide at once, Rodan’s size grew beyond his mere stature. The titan of the skies flapped them once, dislodging more globules of half-cooled molten rock and clouds of ash, and then, to Shinji’s surprise, charged him on foot.

The 14-year-old barely had time to react, much less raise his Eva’s arms to block, before Rodan’s three-clawed hand, opposable thumb included, grabbed Unit-01 by the head and squeezed. Shinji cried out in shock as he _felt_ the great pterosaur’s talons digging into him, burning like hot coals, and his hands left the control yokes to grab at his own head.

“Shinji-kun!” Misato’s voice, distant through the shocking pain. “That’s not your head!”

Shinji barely managed to get his hands back on the yokes, still crying out in pain as he grabbed for Rodan’s hand to pry the monster’s fingers off. Only one of Unit-01’s arms could reach, because the other was impeded by the enormous mass of armored tissue that was Rodan’s wing. He continued to grab for Rodan’s claws fruitlessly even as the Lord of the Skies flapped his free wing, momentarily lifting him and the machine into the air, before letting gravity and his own immense mass do the work and slam the Evangelion into the street headfirst.

Shinji saw stars as the impact rang through the back of his head, Unit-01’s arms going limp as the teen in the driver’s seat clutched at his own head, expecting to feel the sticky warmth of his blood. He hardly heard Misato and Dr. Akagi’s shouts; he’d never even been in a fight with _people_ before, how was he meant to take on one of Earth’s four greatest kaiju?

Blaring into his ears, Shinji registered Rodan’s mighty cackle as he felt a new set of talons, blunter but thicker and gripping Unit-01 _much_ more tightly, clamping down on his shoulder. It repeated with his other shoulder, and Shinji got the distinct sense that he was being lifted. When Unit-01’s feet scraped the street and then left it, Shinji began to panic and, looking up at Rodan as the monster of the sky took flight, reached up to pry his Eva free of his grip. Rodan paid his efforts little heed as the huge wings flapped, building speed until Unit-01 was pulled horizontal by the wind.

Just as Shinji succeeded in pulling one of Rodan’s toes away from his shoulder, the great pterosaur thrusted him down and away from his body, and Shinji looked just in time to catch sight of the building Rodan smashed him through. Just beyond it, a second structure that met the same fate. Rodan cackled once more and flapped hard, sharply gaining altitude. Shinji couldn’t tell how high up they were until Rodan began to spin, Unit-01 still clutched tight in his talons. After half a dozen revolutions, Rodan used the built-up momentum and finally released the Evangelion, flinging Unit-01 down at the city fast enough to break the sound barrier. Shinji only had time to brace for the pain.

Impact, and agony; Shinji let out a genuine scream as he _felt_ his back break. It wasn’t his back and somehow he could tell that it was already repairing itself somehow, but he still experienced the distinct pain of his own spine snapping like a twig. All around him, buildings crumbled to the ground as Eva-01 lay in a shallow crater, twitching just as Shinji was. Another sonic boom heralded Rodan’s arrival, the avian kaiju swooping down for the finishing blow. He landed hard on Eva-01, one foot pinning the mech’s legs down while the other pressed on its shoulder, pushing the weapon further into the ground. By that point, something else had joined the pain in Shinji’s mind: anger.

Anger at himself. Anger at Rodan, anger at his father. Even a bit of anger at Unit-01, but that was unwarranted. So Shinji reached up with his free arm, the pylon on his shoulder sprung open, and the boy closed the Eva’s fingers around the handle of a gigantic knife. That, Rodan took note of.

Before Shinji’s furious, desperate swipe could break his rocky armored scales, the winged titan jumped back out of reach, landing on all fours with an impact that once again shook Tokyo. Shinji almost screamed in frustration at his miss and forced himself up, supporting Unit-01’s upper body on his newly freed hand. He felt his- no, the Eva’s- spine set, and brandished the knife at Rodan, who regarded him in puzzlement, tilting his beak this way and that.

Shinji just watched as the pterosaur’s eyes narrowed, but was then shocked when the monster lifted off vertically, knocking over some of the few still-standing buildings nearby, and took off south. Within fifteen seconds, the winged titan was past the speed of sound, and it wasn’t long before he was gone from view entirely. Shinji just sat there, knuckles white on the control yokes.

Had Rodan just spared him?

Rodan, well beyond Mach 3 and tearing his way through the stratosphere, pondered the day’s events.

The humans’ new weapon concerned him. He still couldn’t identify what sort of smell it had, but its ability to repair itself was concerning. Metal giants he understood. Living creatures, however, shackled and turned into tools… that was the cause of the worry being felt by the Lord of the Skies.

He shook his crested head for a moment to clear his intrusive thoughts and zeroed in on a Hollow Earth opening, tilting his immense wingspan to head that way. He had a couple of old friends to pay visits to.

The man’s face twisted into a smile as the news report went over the aftermath of Rodan’s attack. The firebird had drawn out the wrong anti-kaiju forces, but that was okay. NERV and its Evangelions would be obstacles as well in the future, but the man considered them second priority. He turned to the two others in the room with him.

One, a white-haired young man, lounging on the couch with his bent arm holding up his head, other arm tapping away on a tablet, recording notes on Rodan. 

The second, an older woman with dark hair, leaning forward in her wheelchair. A patch covered one of her eyes, but the eye he could see was narrowed, worry wrinkles on her face outlined by the monitor’s glow.

“We were successful, then,” she said quietly. “We have a way to lure kaiju.”

The older man nodded. “Indeed. Rodan was due to wake soon regardless, but our efforts certainly shortened his rest. We now have the power to induce a kaiju attack anywhere, at any time.”

The younger man looked up, adjusting his glasses. “We’re on schedule, then?”

The older man stood, arms folded behind his back. “Yes. Everything is going as planned. Soon, we save the world, my friends.”

“Giving Earth back to the kaiju, eh?” the younger man chuckled. “If only the road to such a noble goal wasn’t paved in blood.”

**Chapter IV: You Can(Not) Tame the Skies**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shinji Ikari Gets His Shit Pushed In Episode One. Inserting Evangelion's characters into the Godzilla universe will be no easy task, seeing as the circumstance and setting behind Eva is so drastically different, but keeping those characters' development the same should be possible. Rodan's design in this story is essentially his appearance in 2019's King of the Monsters, but his coloration is in brighter shades of red and brown like his Heisei incarnation. Also in this chapter, we have the setup of the first major arc of the story, and next week the conflict truly begins with the introduction of a certain character I'm far too excited to write. Remember to stay home and stay healthy, and leave comments if you feel like it.


	5. CHAPTER V: Dark Oblivion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Symphogear fight scenes are unique as they are all accompanied by song; sung in this chapter is "Gekkō no Tsurugi"(As well as the first line of "Ōkyo Shul Shagana"), and I recommend listening to it whilst or after reading said fight scene to enhance your experience. Every character song can be found on Symphogear's wiki, most of which also have translated lyrics.

_“We say that the Age of Monsters has ended, that thanks to our efforts we have driven the kaiju off and once again created peace for ourselves. The fact of the matter is that we have been desensitized. For four decades, monster attacks were so frequent and reocurring that we got used to the death and destruction. By the eighties, kaiju were just another natural disaster, as unstoppable as hurricanes. When the attacks declined so sharply in 1995, we declared the Age of Monsters over, and yet in the twenty years since, there have still been monsters. Make no mistake, we are far from the constant destruction at the Age’s peak, but the Muto incident of last year, on top of Dogora’s Ukraine attack at the start of the millennium, should be proof enough that the Age of Monsters has not ended. In fact, I’d argue that such a label would cover everything from the Permian Period to this very instant._

_Earth belongs to the kaiju. They are simply reminding us of this, periodically.”_

**_Transcript of part of a speech by Dr. Kyohei Yamane at the annual Kaiju Response Summit’s 2015 session. His warning would, unfortunately, go mostly unheeded._ **

  
  


**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


Every head turned to her when she passed. She’d learned to ignore the awed stares and hushed whispers. These people did not know her. They knew the “her” that they saw onstage, they knew the “her” that sang her songs to entertain.

They did not know the real Maria Cadenzavna Eve.

So as she made her way down the hall, her strides long and confident, she ignored all those around her, her focus on one particular goal, one specific destination.

There it was. A wooden door with a simple label, a name: Tsubasa Kazanari.

Maria silently prayed that her timing was good as she knocked, then turned the doorknob without waiting for an invitation to enter.

A rather unassuming brown-haired man turned to her with his eyebrows raised as a deep female voice asked “Who is it, Ogawa-san?”

Then a head of blue hair turned, and their eyes met.

“Oh!” said the woman. “It’s you, Eve-san!”

Maria put on her best warm smile. “Please, you can just call me Maria. We are equals out on that stage, so there is no need for that to change back here.”

Tsubasa stood, smoothing out her dress. It was a warm-colored affair that contrasted her hair and eyes, but complimented the elegance in her every movement. Maria found, to her amusement, that even standing, Tsubasa had to look up to meet her gaze. Evidently the younger woman noticed as well, and made an effort to stand a little taller.

“So, what brings you here?” Tsubasa asked, hoping the European woman could not tell how flustered she was at their height difference. Were all westerners this tall?

Maria could definitely tell. “I simply wanted to wish you luck, Tsubasa. Not to mention it’s good manners to introduce myself before a performance, no?”

Tsubasa smiled. “Yes, I suppose it is. Thank you for stopping by, Maria.” She offered a hand for the other idol to shake.

Maria took it, grip startlingly firm, and shook once. “I’ll see you out there, Tsubasa.”

At that, she turned, mass of coral hair flowing around to follow, and strode out of the dressing room. Tsubasa waited for the sound of her heels to fade before she let out a breath and slid back into her chair.

Turning to Ogawa, she asked, “Why didn’t you warn me she was that tall?”

Ogawa grinned, bemused. “You were sent her profile, Tsubasa-san.”

Tsubasa frowned. “Reading that she’s 185 centimeters tall and seeing her up close are very different things, it seems.”

A good ways down the hall, Maria shook her head. Her strategy in sizing up her opponent was sound, but it had the unintended side effect of shaking her resolve. Tsubasa seemed nice enough, and worst of all, she was rather cute. Knowing she would be at odds with her was a painful bit of knowledge, but they were too far along to stop now.

Maria shook her head to clear her doubts and waited for their concert to begin. 

It had gone well. The opening song, Phoenix Flame, had stirred the audience into a roaring, cheering mass as the two idols performed their hearts out, dancing around each other to the song’s tune, even holding their microphones (which were stylized into golden rapiers) out to each other. Their eyes had met more than once, and Tsubasa had seen the fiery passion behind Maria’s blue-greens, passion for performance. After that, they’d addressed the audience for a few words each, as was customary. Maria had been as cheerful as her, thanking their viewers for the support, until...

“I’m afraid I have one more thing to add.”

Tsubasa kept her eyes on Maria as they stood on the stage. The sword did not miss the change that came over the other woman’s face, and indeed, when she next spoke, her voice was grave and powerful.

“As all of you are certainly aware, the past two weeks have been a difficult time for Japan, and for the world. First Godzilla, then Rodan, not to mention the observed reawakenings around the globe.”

Tsubasa narrowed her eyes. What was Maria getting at?

“It is safe to assume, at this point, that a second Age of Monsters is upon us. Few of us here know what that means, having grown up in a time of relative peace, but we cannot ignore history. The twentieth century was a time of unprecedented bloodshed, something we must not repeat.”

The European singer began to walk, pacing the stage as she addressed the crowd, and the world watching from behind their screens. “Why do kaiju attack us? What have we done to draw the ire of so many of these fantastic beasts, and what is their goal in crushing our species underfoot?”

At that, a smile took her lips. “The answer is shockingly simple, everyone. Upon their initial return, the kaiju grew dissatisfied with us. With how we ruled the Earth in their absence. Objectively, we have done a poor job. So they attack us, reduce our numbers in an attempt to topple us from the proverbial throne. And then we fought back, which only drew their ire further.”

The crowd was no longer quiet. Opinions and viewpoints like this were not unheard of, but were often considered extremist and dismissed in conversation. Why would Maria be talking about such things? And onstage at a concert, no less?

Maria sighed. “I would like the audience to direct its attention to the sky. This is the important part.”

A hundred thousand heads craned upward, and cameras for dozens of countries panned, and yet there was nothing to be seen.

Until a colossal vulture, its wingspan as long as a truck, landed hard on the edge of the stage. But that was only the beginning.

Murmurs turned to cacophony as, from seemingly out of nowhere, an unholy congregation assembled onstage with the Queens of Music. A group of Shockirus, clicking their mandibles, waited near the plasma screen. Meganula hovered above on vibrating wings as their younger forms, the Meganulon, eyed the crowd with barely-restrained hunger. There was a particularly loud bout of screaming when a very young Skullcrawler clambered down the giant screen to the stage and then proceeded to stand like a statue, towering over everything and everyone else on the stage.

Maria addressed the audience once again, “Throughout the song that was just performed, a bioacoustic frequency inaudible to humans played, attracting all manner of megafauna to this concert hall. Here they stand as proof of that, docile and enthralled by the sound.”

“What?!” Tsubasa yelled, along with most of the crowd. Maria’s eyes flashed to her and narrowed.

“I am Maria Cadenzavna Eve,” Maria declared, “And I represent the organization that possesses this technology, which we have termed the ORCA System. We have taken up the name Finé, to represent the end. And what is it that must end, you ask?”

The woman flung her arm out to the side and proclaimed for all the world to hear; “We must end resistance against the kaiju! This planet is not ours to rule, it is theirs. If we accept this fact and allow them to retake their place atop Earth’s food chain, there will be no need for defense as we reenter a symbiotic relationship with them, the one that we possessed millennia ago!”

“Are you insane?” growled Tsubasa, shuffling slowly away from a Meganulon. Maria paid her no heed this time.

“These are the demands of the organization Finé: all sovereign nations or paramilitary forces in possession of anti-kaiju weaponry, defense systems, or mechas, are to retire such equipment within forty-eight hours. If these demands are not met, it will not just be the likes of Shockirus and Skullcrawlers coming ashore, but true kaiju seeking the source of the ORCA’s sound.”

It was then that she looked directly at Tsubasa, fingers tugging at the string of a necklace.

Tsubasa’s heart stopped when a crimson pendant appeared at the end of it, hidden away in Maria’s clothes.

“Impossible,” she whispered, taking a shaky step back.

“In addition,” Maria continued, still addressing the world, “You will not just stand against the destructive force offered by the kaiju…”

_She isn’t. She can’t be._

“But against the power wielded by me.”

Maria turned her whole body, facing Tsubasa in her entirety. Her striking blue-green eyes bored into Tsubasa’s dark blue ones as she opened her mouth and sang four words, four words that wrapped an icy hand around Tsubasa’s heart and _squeezed._

 _Granzizel Bilfen Gungnir zizzl,_ Maria sang, and Tsubasa watched as that achingly familiar armor took shape. Those same gauntlets and headgear, but all of it colored wrong and dark. A flowing cape surged from her shoulders as the Symphogear clad Maria in its power, and the creatures on the stage recoiled instinctively at the wave of energy that burst away from the woman as the transformation completed.

“This is my Symphogear,” Maria declared, “And its power will be brought to bear against any opposition. You all know what it can do, thanks to the Japanese government’s convenient release of information regarding it.”

Tsubasa could not wipe the horror off her face as things went from bad to worse while she watched. One thought repeated itself in her mind as she stared wide-eyed at the woman before her.

_That’s Kanade’s. That’s Kanade’s. That’s Kanade’s._

“I have made my announcement,” Maria said, flourishing with the Black Gungnir’s cape. “Feel free to depart this stadium. You have my word that none of the creatures present will attack you.”

It was as if a spell had been broken; the two idols just stood there as the immense crowd rushed out, past unnervingly still megafauna, willingly plunging themselves into the newly-made hysteria of the world outside. When the last of them had gone, Maria turned to Tsubasa, throwing away her microphone.

“So you stayed,” she remarked. “Like a proper sword.”

“What on Earth are you trying to do, Maria?” Tsubasa asked, tugging at the string of her own pendant.

“I left nothing out of my speech, Tsubasa,” Maria said. “Why don’t you activate that relic of yours already?”

Tsubasa’s eyes flicked to one of the many suspended cameras. Maria followed her line of sight and laughed, a musical and haughty sound.

“The broadcast has already been terminated, Tsubasa. Did you really think I would deprive you of the chance to take a crack at me?”

“‘Take a crack at you’, huh?” Tsubasa repeated, clutching her pendant. “That’s incorrect. I’m going to stop you, right here.”

Maria smiled. “You will try.”

Tsubasa narrowed her eyes, steeled herself, and sang. 

_Imyuteus Ame no Habakiri tron_

The pendant shone, and the power welled up around her. Tsubasa relaxed her muscles as the phonic energy washed over her body, coating her first in the bodysuit layer as her concert dress phase-shifted out of existence, gone for the moment but sure to return. Next the energy gathered into bundles and formed the armor, the sturdy plates sliding into place over her forearms, her legs, her back, her shoulders. The headgear snapped together and Maria felt the relic’s power flood her mind, bringing the world around her into sharper clarity as her senses were enhanced to match her body. A panel on the leg’s armor ejected an unassuming handle which, as soon as Tsubasa caught it, spat a long, glittering blade.

Once more the megafauna in the arena backed away as Ame-no-Habakiri finished assembling with a shockwave of phonic energy. 

“This is what you wanted?” Tsubasa asked, pointing her blade at Maria.

“Hmph,” Maria huffed, placing her hands on her hips. “Look at you, radiating phonic gain like that. You’re even stronger than I was told.”

“Thank you,” Tsubasa replied, feeling a confident smile of her own tug at her cheeks. “I’ve trained long and hard for this.”

Maria took a step forward, hands curling into fists. “If only we were all so lucky. To have a place to come home to safely, and to grow stronger at one’s own pace.”

 _What?_ Tsubasa wondered.

“I’ve rambled on long enough,” Maria said, shaking her head, making her mass of coral curls bounce with the movement. “Let’s hear your guardian’s song, Tsubasa.”

“You really should be careful what you wish for,” Tsubasa replied, spreading her stance and raising her sword to eye level, elbows bent. She filled her lungs with air, felt the words and the music bubble up from inside like a wellspring, and started her song.

_Hitotsu me no tachi inabikari yori saisoku naru kaze no gotoku_

Tsubasa surged forward almost too fast to see, blade flashing as she slashed at the other woman. Maria ducked down out of the sword’s path and kicked out at the swordswoman’s foot, only for Tsubasa to hop over the blow and bring the sword down, shearing off a few pink hairs as Maria once again dodged, cartwheeling back. The Gungnir wielder braced herself on her hands and pushed off into the air, twisting as she did so to launch a punch, one that found itself parried by the flat of Tsubasa’s sword as the guardian sang on unabated. Maria had sung her own songs before, and heard Kirika and Shirabe do the same, but she had never been opposed by another wielder’s song.

Tsubasa held no instrument, and yet layered beneath her voice there were strings, percussion. The Symphogear itself produced the backing track, the symphony of Tsubasa Kazanari’s soul, and it was the distinct plucking of a shamisen’s strings. It was also a the beat of a drum that Maria could not identify, and she found her own heartbeat trying to match its tempo. 

_Futatsu me no tachi mu no kyōchi nareba hayashi no gotoshi_

Maria landed as Tsubasa continued, pushing her offensive once again, this time with a lunging stab aimed at a hole in Maria’s guard, one that even she had failed to notice. The taller woman scoffed in annoyance and flung her arm across her own body. Her deep black cape came to life and followed the motion, fanning outward in front of Maria and completely obscuring Tsubasa’s view of her. Tsubasa was undeterred and resolved to simply cut through the dark fabric, but was forced to suppress a gasp when her blade clashed with the cape, sparks flying in her vision. This caught her so off-guard that Maria had the time to brush the cape out of the way and reveal herself crouched low, armored fist cocked back.

Before Tsubasa could sing the next line of her song, she was painfully winded by Maria’s powerful punch. The older woman rose to her full height as the sturdy cape flowed back to its former place, because of course the cape was a weapon. Every aspect of the Symphogears were. Tsubasa barely managed to catch the next punch but quicky found herself losing the battle of strength, as Maria was both taller and more muscular than her. Undaunted, she opened her mouth and continued, letting the song of her heart wash over the arena, heard only by her opponent and the observing megafauna.

_Hyakki yagyō wo osoruru wa_

Tsubasa kicked high at Maria’s side, and though the blow struck true, the guardian immediately found her foot pinned in place by Maria’s free arm. A powerful hand squeezed Tsubasa’s leg armor as Maria’s strength bore down on her, threatening to overwhelm her as she lost her balance, singing defiantly all the while.

_Ono ga mijuku no mizu kagami_

As Tsubasa toppled and felt her remaining foot leave the floor, she drew her leg all the way up to her chest and kicked once more, forward this time, driving her boot into Maria’s shoulder. That dealt more damage than the first kick, causing Maria to release her hold, and allowing Tsubasa to turn her fall into a roll. Before even righting herself, the young woman aimed her blade at the sky to summon One Thousand Tears, covering her disadvantage with a rain of energy blades. Maria whipped her Gear’s cape around again to create a canopy, the small swords of phonic energy clattering harmlessly off the dark fabric.

_Ware ga yarazu te dare ga yaru_

Tsubasa ended her roll in a crouch, one knee to the stage floor and the other holding up the arm that had struggled against Maria’s strength. She held the sword up, ready to spring into action at the first sign of attack from beneath that black cape. When Maria reappeared from beneath it, though, she made no move to strike, and simply turned to face the swordswoman. She spread her arms wide, then clapped her palms together. The gauntlets on her arms shifted, coming together, and then launched off. With clanks and whirrs, panels slid back and moved around as the gauntlets extended and formed the shape of a gigantic spear; Gungnir’s Armed Gear. 

There was no pretty smile on her face now, Tsubasa observed, before promptly flushing at the realization that she’d thought Maria’s smile was pretty.

_Mezame yo...aoki haja naru musō_

Evidently, Maria noticed the light dusting of pink on Tsubasa’s cheeks, for as she stabbed with the spear, she teased, “Never fought someone this beautiful, Tsubasa? Don’t get distracted, or it’ll be the end of you.”

Tsubasa found it in her to pause her song and reply, “Distracted? No. I’d just hate to scar a face like yours.”

Maria’s fierce spear clashed against Tsubasa’s fatal blade, both wielders pushing against each other, each of them feeling out the extent of the other’s strength.

“And to think,” Maria grunted through the strain, “I believed you too serious for banter.”

“There’s a… lot you don’t know about me, Maria,” Tsubasa said through gritted teeth. Then a second grip shot out of her leg armor, which spat an identical blade to the first as soon as Tsubasa snatched it from the air. She brought them together in an X shape, twin swords beginning to push Gungnir’s spear back. She picked up her song again, the lyrics once more coming naturally to follow the last ones. Their tempo was faster, so, obviously, Tsubasa resolved to match them.

_Ikusen, ikuman, ikuoku no inochi_

The twin blades were significantly harder than just one to keep track of, even if their individual striking power was lessened. They were silvery blurs cutting across Maria’s vision, and only by virtue of her reaction time was she able to parry with either her spear or her cape. As it was, Tsubasa’s relentless attacks drove her back one step at a time, the guardian’s defiant song making her strikes stronger and stronger.

Suddenly, a familiar voice in her earpiece: “Maria. You should know that her phonic gain is rising. Up to now, she was fighting you at about twenty-two percent.”

_Twenty-two? That little and she still matched me?_

Maria lifted her leg and stomped down on the stage with as much force as she could muster, instantly caving it in and throwing off both combatants’ footing. She, Tsubasa, and the still-enthralled monsters leapt from the collapsing structure to the arena floor, the megafauna still keeping their distance. 

_Subete wo nigirishime furikazasu_

Tsubasa straightened and joined the handles of her two swords, making one longer double-bladed weapon. Then the blades themselves shifted, extra plates of material changing them from thin katana to broader swords. Tsubasa held the new sword almost like a staff and launched yet another attack, offering Maria no reprieve.

“Kirika and Shirabe will be there soon, Maria,” Mom’s voice in her ear once more. “Hold out till then.”

Maria bit back a protest and instead focused everything into repelling Tsubasa’s merciless blows, hard to do when bouncing away one deadly blade sent the equally sharp other end hurtling toward her. In that way there were no holes in Tsubasa’s offenses; the gap in pure skill could not be entirely made up by Maria’s strength. However, the older woman was far from beaten.

She pushed off the ground to leap back, flinging Gungnir’s cape forward as she retreated. Tsubasa twirled the double-ended sword like a bladed baton, batting away the attack with ease, and then gave chase. Just as planned. As soon as her heels touched down, Maria impaled the spear in the ground and grabbed a fistful of the cape in each hand. Bringing them together, she created a ring of the dark, durable fabric around herself, and jumped at Tsubasa as the latter approached, taking satisfaction in the widening of the guardian’s eyes as Maria pirouetted in the air, the sharpened edge of the cape bearing down on Tsubasa’s guard like a shadowy whirlwind.

The blue-haired woman just managed to divert the attack, but all this accomplished was to stagger her while Maria reached back and ripped the Armed Gear free of the arena floor. She turned back to Tsubasa as she noted the sudden lack of singing, and was startled to find her foe standing tall, spinning the double-bladed sword above her head like a helicopter’s rotors.

If helicopter rotors could emit glowing orange flame, that is. Were it not about to be directed at her, Maria might have found the attack to be a breathtaking sight.

“Don’t take your eyes off me,” Tsubasa intoned, spinning the blades ever faster as the armor on her legs shifted down and out to balance her. “Even for a second. If you want to win, that is.”

A blast of air from seemingly out of nowhere- probably the Symphogear’s soles- lifted the young woman’s feet off the ground, and Maria realized those parts of her leg armor were _wings_.

Tsubasa rushed forward again, the swords looking more like a ring of flame, and Maria could only try to block with the spear-

The attack slipped cleanly through her guard and struck home, and Maria gasped as the burning blades scorched and tore away at her armor, knocking her into the air as Tsubasa glided by, turning around for a second pass.

Maria landed on her knees, coughing. “So aggressive-”

“Maybe I’ll get some answers out of you if I take you to bed,” Tsubasa declared, and this time it was Maria’s turn to blush, a bit confused at the statement’s suddenness, but not entirely opposed to its implications.

The spinning ring of the guardian’s fire streaked toward her again, and Maria braced herself for a second dose of pain, but it never arrived as a whirring buzzsaw rent the air on its way toward Tsubasa, forcing her to turn her whirling blades upward and block the sneak attack. The saw burned away, but not before cutting the sword back into two detached blades. A dozen meters away, an entirely too small form clad in pink landed, and an entirely too young voice began a song of its own.

_Kubi wo kashigete yubi kara sururi ochiteku ai wo mita no_

A second newcomer, this one sporting dark green colors, landed beside her, brandishing a wickedly curved scythe.

“We’re here, Maria!” the second, Kirika, called as the first, Shirabe, fired yet more buzzsaws at Tsubasa, launching the projectiles from head attachments that brought to mind gigantic armored ears.

“You two…” Maria whispered as she rose to her feet with a bit of difficulty. “I could have handled this. This is not your fight.”

The pink-clad girl halted her song to reply, “Your fight’s our fight. Let us help you.”

Maria frowned, looking over at Tsubasa as the swordswoman steadily advanced through the storm of sawblades. The three of them together could likely defeat her, but there was also the problem of Tsubasa’s own reinforcements likely being en-route. In a three-on-three fight against a group of wielders without LiNKER dependence, she knew they would have little chance.

Especially considering what the other Gungnir user was capable of.

As if summoned by Maria’s worries, the Gungnir wielder in question cratered the arena floor next to Shirabe with the force of her landing, leaving the tiny girl no choice but to let up on her attack, even while arrows of energy rained down from above as the third of S.O.N.G.’s wielders arrived. The megafauna lingering nearby were finally freed from their trance as Chris’s attack struck more than a few of them, and they scattered away from the wielders’ battle with yelps of fear.

“Tsubasa-san!” cried the girl with the light-brown hair, rushing to the guardian’s side.

“Hello, Tachibana,” Tsubasa replied, offering her a smile. “You as well, Yukine.”

The third one, clothed in a bright red Symphogear, landed more softly beside her senior wielder. “Sorry we’re late, senpai. These three botherin’ ya?”

Maria walked over to stand between the kids, staring down their opponents. “It really is a shame that you all have to oppose us. Things would be much easier with six wielders on our side, rather than just three.”

“We don’t have to oppose you,” Hibiki cried. “Just listen for a bit! I’m sure we can come to some kind of understanding.”

Shirabe scoffed, drawing a questioning glance from Kirika.

“Why are you doing this?” Hibiki continued, “Why are you trying to let kaiju rampage unchecked? I don’t think they have to be our enemies either, but there must be a better way to make up with them than letting them take out their anger on innocent people!”

“Listen to you,” Shirabe hissed. “You want everyone to hold hands and be friends, yet you wield your fists as weapons. I can hardly look at you… hypocrite.”

Hibiki’s eyes widened at such harsh words, and for a moment there was silence in the arena, until it was shattered by a strange, echoing screech from on high. Six pairs of eyes snapped upward and beheld something that was assuredly _not supposed to be here._

A colossal, dark shape, rippling and shifting almost like a liquid. It hovered over them on great wings, a faint dark haze almost cloaking it. When dark ovoids, reminiscent of scales, began to clatter to the arena floor, its identity became unmistakable. Six eyes, shifting all around its massive, ever-changing head, took in each of them with an angry red glow as the echoing screech sounded again, the noise of a billion smaller creatures roaring in harmony.

“The swarm of death,” Tsubasa breathed.

“Shinomura!” Maria gasped. “Let’s go, Kirika! Shirabe!”

“R-right!” Kirika replied, voice shaking in fear of the colonial kaiju above the arena. Shirabe, on the other hand, eyed it with interest, though she still hurried to follow her friends. 

“Did the ORCA’s signal attract it, or is it here to eat what the ORCA attracted?” The dark-haired girl wondered, quickly catching up thanks to the wheels in her Symphogear’s heels.

“Are we running too?” Chris asked quickly, leaning toward Tsubasa without moving her line of sight away from Shinomura. 

“That might provoke it into giving chase,” Tsubasa responded as Hibiki stared up at it, slack-jawed. “Wait to see what it does; we may not need to fight any more tonight.”

Shirabe’s guess was proven true as masses of Shinomura’s dinner-plate sized cells dropped away from its main body in tentacle-like strings to wrap around the fleeing young Skullcrawler, which squawked and screamed as it was lifted off the ground and drawn into Shinomura’s body. Its animalistic wails quickly stopped as it was absorbed, its fate to be torn apart slowly by Shinomura’s ravenous cells, and its nutrients then spread around to the rest.

Seemingly satisfied with its “meal”, Shinomura rippled, reflecting the moonlight, and flapped its great wings, the black draconic shape making for the ocean. One final chorus-screech rang out at its departure, and the S.O.N.G. Symphogear wielders were left standing alone in the concert hall, empty save for them and the shattered carapace of a Shockirus.

Tsubasa sighed, crouching down and balancing on the balls of her feet as she took a breather, but immediately tensed up as she heard a sound she hadn’t expected: Hibiki’s quiet sobs.

“Tachibana?”

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Chris asked, noticing as well.

Hibiki wasn’t looking at them, just staring out at the moon as tears dripped from her chin.

“Am I… really a… hypocrite?”

**Chapter V: Dark Oblivion**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter yet! Maria is my favorite character in all of Symphogear, and I'm beyond excited to have a chance to adapt her character arc and execute it in my own way. If you can't tell already, I try my best to make action scenes descriptive and dynamic so that one can envision what's occurring. This results in them being a bit long. I also tried to up the sexual tension between Maria and Tsubasa a bit, because this is fanfiction and the Symphogear cast as a whole is gonna get to be WAY gayer. I should also mention that, with the exception of Kirika and Shirabe, the entire Symphogear cast is a couple of years older than they are at this point in the show, for reasons I'll touch on later. They're also all taller, because I felt like it. Shinomura is a Monsterverse kaiju, appearing in the prequel comic "Godzilla: Awakening". Next week: a check-in with a certain Angry Young Man, as well as some more time spent with Godzilla himself. Remember to stay home and stay healthy, wash your hands, all that jazz. Comments are, as always, immensely appreciated.


	6. CHAPTER VI: Lull

_ Every day that I woke up for the first year after Gojira’s attack, I had to force myself out of bed. My mind would immediately return to that hellscape that Tokyo became. I thought about the fire, the rubble. I thought about the dead. Five million lives claimed by Gojira’s rampage, directly or otherwise. To this day, it remains the deadliest single kaiju attack, and even more deaths can be attributed to the radiation poisoning that followed.  _

_ While no monster ever got as many kills under their belt in such a short time, as I write this, the death toll of this “Age of Monsters” has reached ten times that. These creatures have ended so many millions of lives, and yet the body count falls short of World War II’s, despite the monsters having had 40 years to annihilate us. In comparison, the second World War saw the deaths of eighty million in six years. Why are these skyscraper-sized monsters, immune to our weapons, worse at killing us than we are? _

**Excerpt from** **_The Half-Century War_ ** **, autobiography of JSDF Lieutenant Ota Murakami.**

  
  


**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


“Quiet” wasn’t a word often used to describe Godzilla. He never really had been. Yet as Anguirus and Rodan tried to get his attention, he found that he was too focused on his own thoughts to reply to them.

His reunion with his two closest friends had been suddenly interrupted the night before by a strange sound, one that echoed through the rock itself, almost like a kaiju’s call. It was distinctly  _ not  _ a kaiju’s call, but it wasn’t something Godzilla could ignore. Then it had been briefly joined by the cry of one of his old foes, the Swarm, before both fell silent.

And behind both sounds, music that he had never heard before, but was oddly familiar nonetheless. It perplexed him, all of it. They might not have been flinging atomic fireballs at each other anymore, but the leviathan couldn’t help his confusion at what exactly the humans were up to. 

Rodan’s cackle, rather loud, cut through Godzilla’s thoughts, and he turned to shoot an annoyed glance at the pterosaur. The kaiju in question clicked questioningly from his place submerged in a volcanic lake, steam rising in great clouds around him as the relatively cool water reacted with the lava dripping from his wings. Anguirus, across the cavern, rose into view with a tree in his mouth to listen in.

The three of them had been pleasantly surprised to find their favorite Mesozoic cavern mostly intact, untouched by the shifting of the tectonic plates. The microecosystem had shifted a bit over the millions of years, but it was still home in its own way. 

Rodan stepped out of the pool with a great hiss of steam and shook himself to clear off what water remained. He, like Anguirus, had grown much since Godzilla had last seen him. Even so, the Lord of the Sky had to crane his neck to look at Godzilla’s face, which amused the immense reptile. 

Rodan asked him what was on his mind, jokingly adding that usually there wasn’t much happening in there. Godzilla snorted and rolled his eyes at the jab, turning his body to face the cavern rather than the wall. The hanging masses of bioluminescent moss on the ceiling lit the cave well, as though the sun somehow shone even down here, and it made for a beautiful sight. Despite everything he had been through, Godzilla was still capable of appreciating nature and Mother Earth.

Unlike the humans, he thought bitterly.

Godzilla filled the two of them in on the strange sound. Anguirus, always a bit of an airhead, had not heard it, while Rodan had written it off as nothing important. Then to Godzilla’s surprise, Rodan filled him in on a worry of his own: a new weapon of the humans’, like the metal giants he had fought at Tokyo Bay, but disturbingly alive at the same time. 

Needless to say, the information unsettled the radioactive titan further. The humans, it seemed, had no limit in their disrespect for Mother Earth and her creatures.

Godzilla’s mighty tail lashed from side to side in his anger. He had half a mind to march to the surface again and give the humans another fight, but undoubtedly the cursed Moth was on high alert after his first appearance.

So instead he stomped off the other way, to a tunnel that led deeper still into the Hollow Earth. With a passing comment at the others not to worry, that he’d be back soon, Godzilla slipped into the darkness. His eyes were strong by virtue of his home environment being the deep sea, but here the dark was so deep that he could only really make out the walls. With a snort, he rolled his mighty shoulders and concentrated inward, on that nuclear flame, ever burning in his chest. It was a simple matter to let it flood his body and burst from his mouth in a stream of death, but much harder to focus it, use it in other ways.

Godzilla let the heat build in his back, the  _ thuds  _ of his dorsal spines filling with power echoing through the tunnel. The fire tried to race up his throat, but he held it back, letting it rebound into the spines, and they went from a rapid flicker to a steady blue glow, one that shone between his scales in a few places, and even out his eyes. His bioluminesence.

With the tunnel now well-lit, Godzilla could see everything scuttling about his feet. It refreshed him somewhat to know that the humans hadn’t conquered all of Earth in his absence, that the planet’s deepest depths remained too deadly for them.

Most of the little creatures down here knew him, if only instinctively, and fled at the vibrations of his footsteps, but the nuclear titan was surprised to spot more than a few watching him as he passed, looks of interest in their eyes. He just snorted and kept walking. He remembered, even when he had been much smaller, being seen as a god by men and beasts alike. The humans had built him a temple, even.

He stiffened. His old temple… could it still be standing after all this time? The humans had proven that their creations could withstand the passage of many years, if the remains of Mu were anything to go by. 

At that, his thoughts turned to Mu. Manda was probably still guarding the place, stubborn old serpent that she was. He considered paying her a visit, but he’d have plenty of time in the seas soon. For now, he would stick to the tunnels. 

The Hollow Earth quaked with a god’s footsteps as he rediscovered the familiar.

Haruo could probably count the ceiling tiles with his eyes closed by that point. Sighing had become his preferred method of communication, and he only ever used his legs to make the walk to the bathroom. Life was a cycle of: eat the hospital food, dissociate, sleep, repeat. 

Part of him knew he should be stronger than this. A week later and he was still in the hospital, supposedly suffering from a serious concussion and some internal injuries on top of his broken arm. The doctor had told him to stay put, and Haruo was too shell-shocked to protest. Part of him knew he should be fighting his way back to full strength and marching back to the JSDF to do his job.

A much larger part of him whispered that he had failed at that exact job, and that failure was why he was now so alone.

Not completely alone, however. One remained to tether him to the world.

“Yuko,” he mumbled. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“It’s Sunday, Haruo,” the brown-haired young woman at his bedside replied. “Unless something comes ashore, I'm off today.”

“Right,” Haruo said. Had he really lost track of the days so completely?

“The doctors tell me you should be good to leave by Wednesday, Haruo,” Yuko pressed, searching his face earnestly. “Don’t you think you should get used to moving around again?”

Haruo’s brow furrowed. When he turned his head to face her, his dark eyes looked almost hollow. “Why are you helping me?”

Yuko made a confused expression. “We’ve known each other a long time, Haruo. Why wouldn’t I be helping you?

“Do I really deserve it?” Haruo bit out. “I let so many people down.”

Yuko sighed. “Haruo. Nobody blames you. MG-II being no match for Godzilla was the problem, not you or the others’ piloting-”

“Even so,” Haruo interjected, “Why me? Why did I make it out alive?”

She took him by the shoulder. “Who are we to know? Is there any way to? One thing’s certain, though.”

“What?”

Yuko squeezed his shoulder, just trying to remind him that she was there. “You’ll never find out if you sit here in a hospital bed forever.”

For a moment, Haruo was still.

Then, “Help me up, Yuko.”

Yuko smiled, moving her hand to clasp his as she braced her other on his back. Holding the side of the bed, Haruo fought his way to his feet, and Yuko kept her hand on his back as he took slow, tentative steps toward the door of his room. His teeth were gritted, but determination pushed him forward. She got the door for him, and they stepped out together into a busy hallway.

Haruo beheld the bustle and clenched his fists. “This many… and who knows how many dead.”

Yuko elected not to inform him of the estimated death toll of 70,000 people, and instead simply rubbed circles on his back to try and soothe him.

“Where do you want to go, Haruo?” she asked.

Haruo twitched a bit, as if waking from a stupor, and thought a moment. “Food court. By the way, uh… you don’t have to hold me up.”

Yuko slowly let go, stepping back a bit as Haruo stood straight. “I’ll lead the way.”

“Please do,” he said quietly.

The pair of them went unrecognized as they made their way through the hospital, down the hall to the elevators. The walk to the food court was blessedly short as Haruo found himself breathing a little too hard by the time they arrived, sweat running down his face and dripping from his chin.

“Stay right here,” Yuko said. “I’ll bring you your food.”

Haruo nodded slowly, his eyes elsewhere, taking in all those like him. Those that Godzilla had ripped from normalcy.

Haruo thought back. Thought back to the fear that had raced through his mind as he faced down the nuclear monster, the panic as he forced MG-II back with pathetic ease, taking everything the machine threw at him and giving it back twofold. He remembered the great claw ripping open Mechagodzilla’s faceplates, and just before the mech toppled for the final time, catching a glimpse at that horrible orange eye through the gash.

Haruo focused on it: the memory of that eye. Of the anger and hatred he had seen in it. Then resolved to match Godzilla’s rage with his own. And as he made this terrible resolution, his face hardly changed, giving no clues to the average observer what was going on in his head.

Fortunately, not everyone in the food court was “average”.

A woman a few tables away turned her head, her eyes flickering over the occupants of the food court until they found him. Her eyes narrowed as she focused on him, and the noise around her faded away.

Her headache did not, of course, for there was a new presence in the back of her mind that she could not silence, but the hundreds of thoughts she had been hearing since she arrived to eat went quiet.

Miki Saegusa peered into his mind, learning first his identity, and recognizing him. After a deep breath, she dove deeper into Haruo Sakaki’s psyche, and it was only thanks to years of practice that his flood of negative emotions did not overwhelm her. The pressure of his hatred and anger grew heavy on her consciousness, mixed with the second psychic link, and she pulled out, massaging her temples.

Connecting with Godzilla had been a foolish mistake. She had failed to even make him consider stopping, and now their minds were practically stuck together, forcing some of her power to always be allocated to that link. Were it not for that, she might have been able to delve deeper into Captain Sakaki, maybe even help him.

_ If I can’t do that directly,  _ she thought to just herself,  _ I’ll at least keep an eye on him from here on. _

When a woman sat down next to him and she  _ sensed  _ their bond, she added,  _ Her too. _

He was cold. Alaska was always cold, sure, but he felt  _ cold _ . The icy wind cut through his heavy jacket like it wasn’t even there. It made Raleigh miss his old job, if only for the conn pod’s mechanical heat. The altitude was similar, at least.

When he was at his lowest, his most drunk, he’d reflect and laugh at how far he’d fallen. Jaeger pilot to construction worker was like falling off the ladder entirely. Deep down, he knew even this construction work was pointless. His experience with kaiju told him that a wall like this would struggle to even turn back a weak monster. God forbid something actually threatening come knocking on the concrete.

When a particularly violent shiver wracked his frame, Raleigh made the executive decision to take his break, and managed the climb down the metal skeleton of the inside of the wall with numbed fingers.

“Soup time,” he mumbled quietly once he was at ground level, pulling a thermos from his pack. Outside, it was almost as cold as the weather, but he knew that inside the soup was still as warm as when he’d prepared it. It was depressing, really, that the highlight of his day was hot soup, but he’d learned to appreciate such simple things.

Raleigh was relishing the feeling of the soup’s warmth spreading through him when he heard what was unmistakably the roar of a helicopter’s rotors. That gave him momentary pause as he looked up at the gray sky from his little “eating corner” as he called it.

He was surprised, however, when a familiar face approached.

Raleigh blinked, a plastic spoonful of soup halfway to his mouth. “Marshal.”

“Mister Becket,” Stacker responded. “Been a while.”

“Two years isn’t that long, Marshal,” Raleigh replied, downing the soup. “I’d offer you some, but this is kinda the only thing I get to look forward to.”

“I’ve got some coffee for myself, but I appreciate the thought.”

There was a markedly awkward silence between them for a moment, the only sound that of the other workers continuing to build the wall.

“Do you know why I’m here, Mister Becket?”

Raleigh shrugged and gestured vaguely at the steel-and-concrete behemoth around them. “Checking out the competition? Personally I think you’re fine.”

Stacker sighed. “Now is not the time for that wit of yours, Mister Becket. Things are changing.”

“Yeah, I know,” Raleigh replied, looking into his thermos to see how much soup was left. “You’d have to be under a rock not to know Godzilla’s back. Even out here, it’s all anyone talks about.”

“Then you should know exactly why I’ve paid you this visit,” Stacker pressed. “We need all the pilots we can get our hands on, and you’re still one of the best we’ve ever had.”

“Suuure,” drawled Raleigh, “And that’s why I managed to get one of the most high-quality Jaegers in the force totaled by a category three.”

“You and your brother made a choice,” Stacker said evenly. “Your actions saved lives, if at the cost of Yancy’s own. You two could have easily let those sailors die and dispatched the Breacher with no issue, but you didn’t.”

“Exactly. Altruism gets you killed in our line of work.”

“Mister Becket, altruism  _ is  _ our line of work. If it took losing your brother to make you see that, you were more naive than I thought.”

“You know,” Raleigh said loudly, “This isn’t really making a compelling case for me to come back. Even if I did, the Jaegers are built to fight Breachers, not Godzilla.”

“Originally,” Stacker replied, “Yes. They’re meant to be cost-effective fighting machines, powerful but not the toughest. But that was then. Like I said, things are changing.”

Raleigh’s eyes narrowed, making the connections. “You crazy son of a bitch.”

“Retrofits,” declared Stacker. “New, durable Jaegers with advanced weaponry and systems. We’re on the cusp of a brand new age of monsters, Mister Becket. Funding’s pouring in, and I have more to work with than ever before as far as resources go. Pilots? Not so much.”

Stacker’s dark glare burned into him. “Things are going to go to hell real soon, Mister Becket. The kaiju are going to whip up that old chaos all over the world. The state of things will collapse.”

“World’s ending, huh?” Raleigh huffed, shaking his head as he got to his feet.

“Exactly, Mister Becket,” Stacker said, holding out a gloved hand. “So my question is this. When shit hits the fan, where would you rather die? Here, or in a Jaeger?”

Raleigh sighed. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

When Raleigh Becket shook his hand, Stacker Pentecost smiled. “Welcome back to the Jaeger Program.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Raleigh said. “Just get me in the helicopter. I’m freezing my ass off.”

**Chapter VI: Lull**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and uneventful chapter this week. Raleigh likes soup. Yuko is also closer to Haruo's age than in the anime trilogy proper, making them more like childhood friends. Apologies for the late post, I had final exams to contend with. Next week will be much longer and more action-packed, I promise you that. It'll also see the first bit of cooperation between the separate groups of our heroes, so that ought to be fun. Be sure to stay home and always healthy. Comments appreciated, per the norm.
> 
> By the way, if it wasn't clear, the "thud" sounds when Godzilla charges his spines are meant to be the sound effect from the Kiryu duology. After the Monsterverse's hum, it's my favorite atomic breath sound effect.


	7. CHAPTER VII: The Hunters

_Mentally interfacing with a mecha has been a proposed function since MG-II was first finished. This would cut out the “middleman” of physical controls, improving a mech’s reaction time and likely reducing the number of pilots. That psychic child that’s been making the news lately would make a good test subject. Doubtlessly through studying her powerful mind, someone will be able to engineer a rudimentary neural interface. Mixing a human mind with a mechanical body does not bode well, however. In theory, the strain would be far too great for a single mind. Of course, an organic nervous system would mitigate such kickback, but at the cost of narrowing down options for pilots to an absurd degree. Yui thinks we’re onto something with that. I envy her optimism._

**From the diary of NERV Commander Gendo Ikari, entry dated April 7, 2004, recovered [** **REDACTED** **]**

  
  


**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


Raleigh had to admit, the place felt like home. It was bigger and more open than his old Shatterdome in Alaska, but that was to be expected. The Shatterdomes were scattered all around the Pacific Rim, but more funding and more Jaegers went to the ones near major population centers. The Tokyo, Vancouver, and Los Angeles Shatterdomes were impressive, but none held a candle to this veritable bastion of mechanical might. Raleigh could hardly hear himself think as he looked out over it all, watching the hustle and bustle of the workers.

It was refreshing seeing all sorts of races and nationalities mixed among the staff. The global crisis of the first age had brought humanity closer together than ever before, though some international tensions still existed. The Pan-Pacific Defense Corps was a groundbreaking organization, formed and funded by China, Hong Kong, Russia, Japan, Canada, the United States, Mexico, Ecuador, Peru, Chile, New Zealand, Australia, Indonesia, and the Philippines. Not every country that was part of the PPDC had a Shatterdome, but every country was protected by one.

Hong Kong Shatterdome, the first one, was also the largest. Built to house two dozen Jaegers and thousands of personnel, the immense structure even had docking space for a supercarrier. Alaska hadn’t had anything like that, and it was just Raleigh’s luck that there was some kind of delivery expected today. 

He had a good vantage point overlooking the dock, a cup of soup in his hand because the mess hall had an _excellent_ selection, and was starting to wonder why he’d ever left this job. 

After a while, the massive supercarrier entered, and instead of bristling with aircraft, the deck was occupied by something under a massive brown tarp, which Raleigh assumed to be a Jaeger. Curiosity won out, and he got down from his lovely viewpoint to see if he could get some answers. 

He was surprised to find Marshal Pentecost waiting by the gangplank as some of the crew disembarked. Raleigh figured he had more important things to oversee.

“Marshal,” he greeted. “What’s the occasion?”

“Ranger Becket,” Stacker replied, using Raleigh’s newly regained title, “Today is a strange day for the Jaeger Program. You’re familiar with NERV, correct?”

“They’re in charge of those Evangelion things, right? Wait, don’t tell me…”

“Good deduction,” Stacker said, turning to the lumpy tarp. “Beneath that covering is an Evangelion. They’ve had a long trip from NERV’s German branch to transport it, so Ikari asked me to let them stop and rest here tonight, before the last leg of their journey to Tokyo.”

“Ikari?” Raleigh questioned.

Stacker huffed. “Never mind. Be polite, though, Becket, as I’m told the machine’s pilot is also on board, and we’re to treat her as an honored guest.”

“I’ll keep my eye out,” replied Raleigh, casually letting his gaze roam over the disembarking crew. They generally seemed like unassuming military folk, but judging a book by its cover was something he’d learned not to do long ago. He himself didn’t exactly look the part of Jaeger pilot.

Shortly, though, someone did catch his eye. Someone entirely out of place among the crew. Fiery orange hair, short stature, if he didn’t know any better he’d think there was a child employed by NERV.

When she noticed his questioning stare, however, and began to march over with an irritated expression, giving him a closer look, Raleigh realized that she _was_ a kid.

“Something on my face?” she asked, in excellent but accented English. “Or am I just too pretty to take your eyes off of?”

Raleigh blinked. “What?”

She let out an exaggerated scoff, hands on her hips. “Oh, I get it. You don’t know who I am, so you’re wondering what I’m doing here. I shouldn’t have to, but I’ll do you the favor of introducing myself.”

Raleigh just slowly and silently turned to look at Stacker, confusion written all over his face. The older man just shrugged.

“I’m Asuka Langley Sohryu, Unit-02’s pilot. You’d best remember it.”

Now Stacker was confused. “ _You’re_ Miss Sohryu?”

Her blue eyes began to bore into him instead, which Raleigh was grateful for. “So you were expecting me, but you didn’t know who I was?”

“You must understand, Miss Sohryu,” came Marshal Pentecost’s even reply, “Most military organizations, including my own, don’t make it a practice to employ children.”

“I’m fourteen, for your information,” she bit back, “Practically an adult.”

Raleigh suppressed a snort. _They’re putting_ this _behind the controls of a giant robot?_

Stacker’s unrivaled composure served him well as he attempted to defuse the situation. “You have my apologies, Miss Sohryu. As Marshal of the Jaeger Program, allow me to welcome you to the Hong Kong Shatterdome.”

She smirked, and Raleigh had never been so intimidated by a kid before. “That’s better. For what it’s worth, nice place you’ve got here. It’s a lot bigger than NERV, even if it’s, well…”

“Messier?” Stacker supplied, “The Pan-Pacific Defense Corps prioritizes function and efficiency over style. Things aren’t pretty, but they get the job done.”

“‘Cept the Jaegers,” Raleigh cut in. “Only bits of paint in these places.”

“‘Jaegers’, huh?” Asuka said, folding her arms. “That’s kinda funny. A German name for an American invention, used to fight ‘kaiju’, which is a Japanese word.”

Stacker nodded. “The kaiju crisis has brought the world together in ways our forefathers likely never could have imagined. It’s been a time of unprecedented peace between men, if nothing else.”

Asuka narrowed her eyes at him. “You talk like a… dramatic narrator, or something. Do you record audiobooks?”

At that, Raleigh had to bite his lip to keep a laugh back, which Stacker unfortunately noticed. “Mister Becket, why don’t you show Miss Sohryu to her quarters for her stay? Room sixteen, barrack four.”

Raleigh cleared his throat and expertly wiped his face of the mirth he was feeling. “Yessir. If you’ll follow me, Miss.”

“Hope the beds are more comfortable than the ones on that boat,” she grumbled, shouldering her bag.

Asuka didn’t miss Stacker’s parting shot of “No promises.”

She followed Raleigh closely, evidently wary of getting lost in such a huge facility.

“What _are_ the rooms here like?” she asked, raising her voice over the cacophony of the work around them.

“Not much,” Raleigh admitted. “They are probably better than what you slept in on that ship, though. Just don’t expect it to look pretty.”

“Hmph,” Asuka grunted, speeding up to walk alongside him. “Sounds like I’m the prettiest thing in this place. Wouldn’t you agree?” she added at the end, an...odd note in her voice that Raleigh did not like.

“Not sure. There’s this one lady here that always catches my eye.”

Asuka frowned. “That so? What’s she called?”

It was Raleigh’s turn to smirk. “Gipsy Danger.”

“What kind of name is that?”

“The name of a Jaeger. _My_ Jaeger, specifically. I didn’t pick it, but it has a certain ring, you know?”

“ _Your_ Jaeger? You expect me to believe you’re a pilot?” Asuka drawled.

“Believe me, or don’t. Up to you,” Raleigh shrugged, “My name’s still painted on her armor, though.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll take your word for it,” Asuka waved him off as they stepped into an elevator. Her sheer out-of-placeness drew glances from the other occupants, but Asuka either didn’t notice or was too proud to acknowledge them. Raleigh suspected the latter.

This process repeated with every stop the elevator made, until they at last arrived on their floor.

“Do all these hallways look the same?” she asked incredulously upon stepping out.

“Pretty much,” Raleigh replied. “Other than the labels that tell you where you are. It can be tough to get used to, and downright impossible without a map. Lucky you that you only have to spend a day or so navigating.”

“Is every anti-kaiju agency besides NERV like this?” Asuka groaned. 

“Nope,” Raleigh said. “Just us, as far as I’m aware. We have a ton of funding, but also more ground to cover than any other organization. We can’t afford to be liberal spenders on architecture and aesthetic. I like it like this.”

Asuka raised an eyebrow at him. “Why?”

“Not sure. I guess it just feels more… down-to-Earth. We’re just little defenseless humans, fighting a war against monsters beyond imagination. We’re ants in a struggle against a hurricane, but the Shatterdomes are like monuments to that struggle and our resourcefulness, our ability to adapt and stay alive.”

Asuka was silent for a moment, hand on her chin as she absorbed his words. Then, “You PPDC types like to wax poetic, huh?”

A vein throbbed in Raleigh’s temple, and he thanked Mothra that they’d arrived at her room. 

“This isn’t as bad as you and the Marshal made me think it would be,” Asuka remarked after a quick look around.

“Glad to hear it,” Raleigh handed her a map of the Shatterdome. “Make yourself comfortable. Mess hall’s open 24/7, but dinner is served from 1700 to 1900. Try not to get lost on your way there.”

Asuka was staring intently at the map as she waved him off with a “Yes, yes. _Auf wiedersehen,_ Mister Becket.”

Able to tell when he was not wanted, Raleigh raised his hands placatingly and departed, headed back to his spot from earlier. He wanted to get a good look at this Unit-02, see if it looked any different than the Unit-00 that NERV had shown off in San Francisco years ago. That had been during the Jaeger Program’s infancy, and the Mark Is they’d sent out against Hokmuto in Honolulu had gotten utterly torn apart by the winged kaiju. The Jaegers had done more harm than good due to how effortlessly Hokmuto pushed them through buildings, so they hadn’t tapped the Los Angeles Shatterdome to fight in San Francisco. It was then that NERV had revealed its creation, and the lanky mech had fought hard against the Hokmuto and his mate, Vemuto, weaving around the larger, flightless monster and overpowering the smaller one. Its agility somehow did not sacrifice power, as shown when it had kicked Hokmuto into the side of a skyscraper, the impact caving in his chest as well as impaling him on the structure’s skeleton. Then the machine had staggered over to the larger Vemuto, who had cornered a nuclear warhead intended to bait her out to sea, and then grabbed her head and ripped her neck open, to the point the kaiju’s own body weight decapitated her. The sheer effectiveness of the mech had shocked the world, but there were of course skeptics who noted that it had run out of power and collapsed almost immediately after the battle.

When the deck crew removed the tarp from Unit-02, Raleigh tried his best to remember what the one from San Francisco looked like. What he distinctly recalled was color, and this new machine was a distinct red to Unit-00’s bright orange. Raleigh also remembered that the first one had possessed a singular eye, while this one had _four_.

Other than that, the two machines seemed almost identical. The same slender, gangly build and weird shoulder pylons. Raleigh watched as maintenance crews, all clad in NERV’s colors, swarmed over the 85-meter mech, lifting panels and performing all the necessary checks. The Jaeger pilot paid especially close attention when the back of its neck let out a pneumatic hiss and an entire section of its back and shoulders folded up, revealing parts of its inner structure that seemed to be designed after vertebrae. Plugged into one was a large metal tube, and Raleigh assumed that was the Eva’s equivalent to the Jaeger’s Conn Pod.

After about an hour, they seemed to be finished and tossed the big tarp back over the Evangelion, and Raleigh still had no idea how something that skinny could take hits better than a Jaeger. He resolved to put it out of his mind, however, when the PA system announced that it was five in the evening. He stood and stretched with one final look at the lumpy brown tarp as he wondered what the soup of the day was.

Asuka knew what an alarm sounded like when she heard it.

She sat up in the not-entirely-uncomfortable bed, rubbing blearily at her eyes as the alarm continued. It was loud and droning, but blessedly not as high-pitched as some that she’d heard. She assumed that this meant some kind of drill.

“ _Mein Gott,_ what time is it?” she grumbled, reaching for where she’d set the map of the Shatterdome. As Asuka glanced at the glowing digital wall clock, which read 0239, she was still under the assumption that they were conducting some kind of midnight drill. When she got a light on and read one of the map’s footnotes describing alarm tones, she paled.

This was not a drill.

There was a kaiju on the way.

“ _Scheisse!_ ” she practically screeched as she slipped into a pair of shoes and made ready to follow her map to the command deck. She didn’t bother changing out of her pajamas, though, as they were modest enough. When Asuka opened the door, there was bustle but no panic as the staff reported to their stations; evidently this process was well-practiced with them.

 _They drill pretty often, don’t they,_ Asuka mused as she squinted down at the map, making her way to where the Marshal would be waiting.

When she arrived, the LOCCENT command deck was a hive of activity, technicians and analysts moving this way and that, and Asuka had to dodge around a few of them more than once as she approached Marshal Pentecost’s distinctive silhouette.

The Eva pilot cleared her throat. “Marshal, sir?”

“Miss Sohryu,” Stacker replied without turning. “I’ll be with you in a moment.” Then, addressing a middle-aged man at a desk, he asked, “How fast is it moving?”

The man, without looking up, spoke quickly. “Same speed. It’ll be on us in under an hour. No ships in the area.”

“Marshal,” Asuka pressed, “What exactly-”

“Algorithm’s named it,” a female technician across the room called, cutting Asuka off. “This one’s being called ‘Sachiel’.”

“Isn’t that Biblical?” someone off to Asuka’s left asked. “Like, an angel’s name, or something?”

“Literally who cares?” another voice yelled across the room. “It’s _not_ an angel, it’s a Breacher. Plus, we had one named Loki before, this is basically the same thing.”

 _Breacher?_ Asuka wondered. “Will somebody PLEASE tell me what is going on here?”

“Miss Sohryu,” Stacker began, turning to her, “You’ve been taught that since 1995, kaiju activity has dropped off almost entirely. The fact is, it picked back up again seven years ago. They erupt from the floor of the Pacific and make for population centers. We call them ‘Breachers’, and over the seven years that they have been a threat, we have killed several _dozen_.”

Asuka, to her credit, took this information in stride. “How the hell have you kept that under wraps for so long?”

“By never letting them _get_ to population centers,” said a voice she recognized, and Asuka caught sight of Raleigh approaching, looking significantly more awake than she felt. “What’s the situation?”

“Category three, forty kilometers out, designation Sachiel.” Stacker informed him without missing a beat.

“Who’re you deploying?”

Marshal Pentecost’s reply was not immediate. He instead squinted a bit, looking Raleigh up and down. Beneath his dark mustache, Asuka saw the corners of his mouth turn up just a bit.

“You, Mister Becket. Suit up.”

Raleigh blinked, but offered no protest. Instead, he asked, “Who am I drifting with?”

Pentecost’s smile was definite now. “Why, me. Mister Choi, activate Gipsy Danger and authorize her for imminent operation. Pilots: Becket and Pentecost.”

Asuka almost raised her hand like a schoolgirl, but instead just cleared her throat, drawing the Marshal’s attention. “Say, boys.”

“Miss Sohryu?”  
Asuka folded her arms, giving them a toothy smile. “How’s about I back you up?”

Stacker shrugged. “Technically, I can’t stop you from getting in your robot, but the moment you’re part of the operation you take orders from me. Is that clear… Pilot Sohryu?”

Asuka turned, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she made for the exit. “Crystal.”

Raleigh rolled his shoulders as he entered the Conn Pod, feeling out his range of motion. He’d forgotten how heavy the Ranger Armor was, but luckily for himself, he’d kept in shape. 

The pilot glanced around the Conn Pod, which was somehow exactly how he remembered it, despite the damage it had suffered the last time he was in it. The repairs had been flawless, and the retrofits subtle. He wasn’t completely sure, but it even seemed to smell the same.

When Stacker entered moments later, he wasted no time stepping onto the mobility rig, triggering the mechanisms that locked his feet into place.

“Time is of the essence, Ranger,” he called out to Raleigh. “Can’t start her up until we drift.”

“Yessir,” Raleigh replied, stepping on and letting the locks clamp around his own steel boots. With both of them in place, the harnesses shifted down behind the pilots, supporting their stances and connecting to their helmets. Forming the bridge between them and the machine.

All that was left was the bridge between the pilots.

“Haven’t drifted in a while,” Raleigh remarked as the yoke slid into his right hand, the one that would correspond to Gipsy’s right. “There’s gonna be some nasty stuff in my head you haven’t seen, Marshal.”

“Yancy’s death,” Stacker guessed correctly. “Surprising though it may sound, I’m prepared for that. Just don’t chase the rabbit, Ranger.”

“Yessir,” Raleigh said, making the final checks with his free hand before pressing the button that would initiate their drift. The countdown started immediately, and Raleigh thought back to the training he’d undergone. He paced his breathing and cleared his mind, then finally closed his eyes as the monotone voice declared the initiation of the drift.

Smell, touch, hearing, taste, sight. All five vanished in a single instant as Raleigh’s consciousness was shunted inward, deep into his own mind, and memories and feelings replaced them. His life very literally flashed before his eyes, and it hurt when he heard a familiar shout from within the storm of memories. 

_Raleigh, listen to me-_ his brother’s final words. 

And then it was gone, so were his memories, and he was watching a different life. It was a longer slide show, Pentecost’s extra years adding to the story. Raleigh had never drifted with the man aside from a single time during basic training, so there were about five years of extra memories to see that were entirely new to him.

Then he was rushing forward, back into his own senses, the link established. He felt Stacker’s mind linked to his own, a closed circuit of thoughts and instincts. This was the Drift, engineered thanks to breakthroughs in psychic research over the past two decades. 

“How’s my head?” Raleigh asked.

“Only a bit less empty than the last time I looked,” Stacker replied, but their link telegraphed the intended humor behind the words, prompting a chuckle from both of them at the same time. “More importantly, are you ready to drop?”

“You kiddin’?” Raleigh asked, thumbing the big switch. “Drop’s the best part, Marshal.”

When both of them flipped their respective switches, in unison, the Conn Pod came free of its mooring and began a near-freefall down a long shaft toward the launch bay, connected only to a pair of rails on the sides. After a few seconds it slowed to a stop as the head of Gipsy Danger reached its matching body. It docked and then began to turn, “screwing” into the mech’s structure, making the connections of the titanium “muscle fibers” and hyperconnective “nerve” wires. Pins and needles flooded the two Rangers’ bodies as the mech itself synchronized with them in their drift.

Its muscles became their own, and their nerve impulses became its own. Both Tendo’s voice in their comms as well as the heads-up display showed all green systems as the platform crawled toward the bay doors on immense treads. The night was calm, and visibility was high as Gipsy’s floodlights switched on along with its video receptors. The world outside was superimposed onto the Conn Pod’s view screen, and giant pistons and mighty hydraulics hissed as the newly repaired Gipsy Danger took its first step in over two years, sinking ankle-deep into the ocean.

When he pounded the mech’s fist into its open palm, Raleigh found himself thinking that it was good to be home.

“About time you two got here,” Asuka snapped, using the Eva’s external speakers, “Does the process really take that long every single time?” 

After a short crackle of static, Stacker’s voice replied, “Ours can’t be calibrated until the pilots are already inside. From what I was told, the engineers in Germany prepped your Unit-02 before you left, as a precaution.”

Asuka scoffed. “Fair enough, I guess. What’s the plan?”

Raleigh checked the HUD. “Breacher’s about five minutes away. The seafloor around the Shatterdomes is raised by artificial deposits for a three-kilometer radius, so you can fan out without worrying about depth.”

“How do we know it won’t just swim right by?”

“Breachers, regardless of their varying intelligence, have a consistent behavioral pattern,” Marshal Pentecost chimed in, “Their highest priority targets are large, moving objects like us, perceived as threats. Secondary to that are population centers, so they come to us first, and we stop them there.”

“Sounds like you’ve got this down to a science,” Asuka noted, swiveling Unit-02’s head this way and that.

“Never let one get past before,” Raleigh replied, clenching and unclenching Gipsy’s right fist as he and Stacker scanned the horizon for any sort of wake. “How far out is it now, Tendo?”

“You should be able to see it, actually. Radar puts it about a kilometer out.”

“Kilometer? I can’t see a thing.”

“Wait!” Asuka’s voice. “Look there. A bulge in the water.”

Gipsy followed the pointing finger of Unit-02 and, indeed, there was something approaching them beneath the surface, leaving no wake.

“LOCCENT, this is Marshal Pentecost. Preparing for combat,” Stacker said as it slowed to a stop, maybe 200 meters away.

Then it rose, standing bipedally.

It reminded all present of the Evas, though its body was much bulkier. It had enormous shoulders sporting pauldrons of bone, and no neck, simply a skull-like head protruding from its torso. Three-clawed hands glinted under Gipsy’s floodlights at the ends of its long, powerful arms, which sported bone spurs at the elbows. Despite its humanoid stature, its head appeared to sport a beak, and its legs had the extra joint characteristic of some birds and theropod dinosaurs. It stood near the height of Asuka’s Eva, and slightly taller than Gipsy Danger.

“Now this is a weird-looking one,” Raleigh mumbled.

“How the hell do they _normally_ look?” Asuka asked, voice an octave higher than normal.

“More like animals,” Stacker said as Gipsy took a battle stance. 

The Breacher Sachiel’s eyes, empty, black pits, bored into them as a high, keening wail escaped its beak. It moved, dashing toward Gipsy on those long, birdlike legs. It was startlingly fast, swinging its long arms like pendulums as it charged the mech. Then, to both pilots’ shock, it jumped, clearing Gipsy’s head. It landed behind them, and before they could turn to face it, a powerful kick slammed into Gipsy’s back, sending the mech stumbling.

“Agile son of a bitch, huh,” Raleigh snarled, and matched Stacker’s intent to turn Gipsy around with a wide left hook. Sachiel ducked beneath the blow, Gipsy’s fist barely scraping the Breacher’s shoulder armor, and then swept the mech’s legs out from under it with one swing of its arm. The Jaeger caught itself before any kind of embarrassing faceplant, but still could not get back to its feet quickly. Above, Sachiel raised its arm high, bending the spindly limb so that its palm faced its opponent. The muscles in its arm began to ripple, the bony spur at its elbow vibrating.

Before it could attack, Unit-02 was there, slamming an armored fist into its face. The Breacher recoiled with a scream, allowing Gipsy time to push itself upright.

“Can’t you boys do anything without me?” Asuka teased as she chased after the monster, keeping her advantage. The red gauntlet came down again, this time smashing into Sachiel’s forearm. The Breacher managed to defend itself, but found no opening to escape Asuka’s assault.

“Huh,” Stacker said. “I suppose we’re both a bit out of practice.”

“Should we help? Looks like she’s got this handled.”

“Keep close,” Stacker said, tapping the plasma-caster on his side of the HUD. Gipsy’s left hand unfolded, glowing energy crackling from its fingers as they spun, funneling power to the focal point that emerged from within the mech’s wrist.

As Asuka raised Unit-02’s arms above its head, fists clenched for an overhead strike, Sachiel found opportunity and surged forward, headbutting its opponent. Its beak pierced armor, and dark fluid spurted from the wound when it withdrew, claws already rushing toward the Evangelion.

Roaring in pain and rage, Asuka caught them with the Eva’s own hands and grappled against Sachiel’s strength, gradually gaining ground over the bizarre kaiju. It screeched as it fought Unit-02’s shocking physical might, the muscles in its arms once again twitching and distending.

Raleigh and Stacker noticed first, and when they saw the elbow spurs begin to move, figured out exactly what its method of attack was. With no time for anything else, Stacker raised the left plasma-caster and fired, a blue bolt of heat and power tore through the air, and Sachiel screamed again as the blast struck its right arm. Skin and flesh burned away, cauterizing the wound, but the Breacher did not release its other hand.

“Sohryu!” Stacker roared. “Let go, now!”

The warning was too late; the bone spur vanished into Sachiel’s arm, and suddenly there it was again, but protruding from the back of Unit-02’s hand.

 _“Scheiße!”_ Asuka ground out as the Eva’s pain ran up her own arm like a hot poker, followed by a new flare of agony when Sachiel raised its foot and kicked hard at Unit-02’s knee. 

This time the Evangelion was the one to stumble, the spike of bone coming free of its hand with a disgusting, wet sound, and Sachiel raised its arm with a ghastly scream as the spear slid back into place. Asuka barely managed to roll out of the way as the arm smashed down with a great splash, but hesitated as she came to a stop on her damaged knee.

Before the Breacher could give chase, its attention was caught by a deafening horn, and it turned just in time to see Gipsy barreling toward it as fast as the mech’s legs would allow. There was no time for Sachiel to defend as 70,000 tons of metal shoulder-checked it, ribs snapping as a shockwave radiated from the impact. The lanky Breacher was lifted bodily into the air by the attack, and when it landed in the shallows, the impact was felt in the Shatterdome kilometers away. Gipsy raised the plasma-caster again, aiming for a headshot, but Raleigh and Stacker gave pause as the Breacher’s eyes suddenly flashed from their former inky black to a bloody red.

Their instincts united and Gipsy acted on them; the Jaeger ducked just in time for a beam of concentrated heat to pass through the space that its head had just occupied.

Sachiel howled and got to its feet, hauling off with one arm to swing at Gipsy Danger, but Eva Unit-02 reentered the fight with newfound energy. Asuka caught the long limb with both hands, the previously damaged one no longer bleeding, and squeezed. Before long the crackling of bone was picked up by Gipsy’s audio receptors. Sachiel’s high-pitched keening reached a fever pitch as glowing blood- Breacher Blue- dripped between the Evangelion’s fingers and dropped tens of meters to the water below in bathtub-sized droplets.

“No more of that hidden-blade _kuhscheiße_ ,” Asuka snarled to herself as she increased the pressure of her grip. She let go, however, when Sachiel slammed one of its shoulders into her face. The girl didn’t miss a beat and reached up, flicking a knob on the yoke that opened a panel on Unit-02’s shoulder pylon. She grasped the handle she knew to be there and drew the Progressive Knife as Sachiel stumbled around to face her, one of its arms hanging uselessly and the other well on its way.

The eyes flashed red again, but Asuka never yielded and drove the Prog Knife deep into one of them. The other, however, still fired, and even with half strength the laser punched clean through Unit-02’s shoulder and out the other side. She screamed at the same time as the Breacher, violently ripping the knife out of its skull in another shower of luminescent blood.

Monster and human both staggered, planning their next moves, until a titanium fist reached over the Breacher and took hold of its head. Another hand squeezed down on its massive shoulder, and that was when Gipsy Danger started to pull.

Sachiel’s remaining arm and legs flailed, landing desperate glancing blows on the Jaeger’s armor but never getting it to loosen its grip. In the Conn Pod, sweat poured down both Rangers’ faces as they squeezed and pushed and pulled, their own muscles straining as Gipsy’s artificial ones did. Sachiel’s remaining eye fired yet more beams of heat, glowing lines that streaked into the atmosphere, but for all its struggles it could not escape the metal giant as it pushed down on its body while pulling up on its skull.

Finally, with the awful sound of muscles and tendons snapping, Sachiel’s head came free, taking with it a sizable section of its spine. The screeching died with the Breacher as Gipsy tossed the severed head to the side, then formed the plasma-caster and fired into the gushing wound to cauterize it and stop the beast’s toxic blood from spilling further.

Raleigh’s right hand opened, and the colossal corpse fell into the shallow water for the final time, still slightly twitching as smoke rose from the hole in its torso. Asuka, gasping for breath through the pain and shock that her Eva shared with her, stared intensely at Gipsy Danger through Unit-02’s quartet of eyes. The dark blue mech stood tall, nearly undamaged, shoulders squared. 

She had trained her whole life for this, but these men were professionals, honed and efficient exterminators. Their power came not from study and simulation, but the most potent source of all: raw experience.

Though it hurt her pride to admit it, Asuka realized that she had a lot to learn before she could stand in the ring with the likes of the Jaeger Program’s Rangers.

“So,” Raleigh said to Asuka later that morning with no small amount of smugness, “Still think I’m not a pilot?”

“Yeah, yeah, you sure showed me,” Asuka said, not looking at him. Above them, Unit-02 rested on the carrier’s deck, repairs under way on its armor. From what Raleigh could see, the components underneath were in much better shape.

“So how does the Eva do that?” he asked her. “Self-repair mid-battle? Did someone at NERV crack nanometal theory?”

Asuka shrugged. “I don’t ask how Unit-02 works, I just fight in it.”

“Helpful,” sighed Raleigh as a member of the ship’s crew called to Asuka in German.

“Well,” she said, “I gotta go. If those things really show up as often as you say, it sounds like you’ll have your hands full pretty soon. What with, y’know…”

“Godzilla,” Raleigh finished. “If things get real hectic, maybe I’ll see you out there.”

Asuka let out a short laugh. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you~”

“Please stop that,” he replied, raising a hand in front of his body. “I’m practically twice your age.”

The girl shrugged, shouldering her bag. “Your loss,” she said, and walked off toward the gangplank.

“Hey, Asuka,” Raleigh called before she was out of earshot. The redheaded pilot turned to him, an eyebrow raised.

“Recklessness has a cost,” he advised. “Tone it down a bit.”

He saw rather than heard her scoff as she turned back and got aboard the ship

“Quite the handful, that one,” said Stacker’s voice behind him. “I’m relieved she’s off our hands, and I certainly don’t envy Ikari."

“‘Ikari’, huh?” Raleigh said, facing the Marshal. “Something I’m missing?”

“Commander of NERV,” Stacker supplied. “Old college friend.”

“Small world,” remarked Raleigh as the repair crews threw the great tarp over the Evangelion.

“The world got a lot smaller the day we learned that living things could grow beyond the roofs of our tallest buildings, Mister Becket. And yet, at the same time, it’s bigger than ever.”

“Marshal?” Raleigh began, putting a hand on Stacker’s shoulder. “D’you know half the shit you say sounds cool, but makes no sense?”

“Please do not ever touch me again.”

**Chapter VII: The Hunters**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Pacific Rim Main Theme Grows Louder]  
> This got way longer than I originally intended, but I'm happy with it and it felt good to write. Asuka's here early, and she sure is Asuka. Evangelion's Angels all have really cool designs, so while they won't be in this story in their roles from Eva proper, some will still make appearances, albeit slightly altered aesthetically to look more like lifeforms, however alien.  
> Jaegers, Breachers, and Evangelions all get MASSIVE weight buffs in this story to fit with the conventions of a Godzilla fanon. How Travis Beacham decided that a building-sized robot with a nuclear reactor in its chest could only weigh a couple thousand tons is beyond me. You're on thin ice too, Anno.  
> Stay home, stay healthy, and leave comments if you feel like it. Your support feeds me like Miku feeds Hibiki. (thanks for over 300 hits, by the way!)


	8. CHAPTER VIII: Godzilla vs. Symphogear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Symphogear chapter, which means it is once again time for an Insert Song or two! Sung here are "Seigi wo Shinjite, Nigirishimete" as well as "Ressō Gungnir". Give them a listen to enhance the reading experience, either during or after.

_“Frankly, it was pretty funny to witness. There I was, doing spy things, collecting intel on them for a future neutralization op, when the problem just solved itself. I was scared shitless at the time, of course, but in hindsight things worked out peachy. Watching Megaguirus toss the Red Bamboo’s trump card around like a ragdoll gave me a distinct feeling of satisfaction. Took losing a claw for Ebirah to fuck off, though, and in the chaos I was able to get into their labs and set some charges. A button press later and the bastards had no way of getting control over him again. Felt good, even if I had to dodge the Meganula on my way out.”_

**Excerpt from an interview with [REDACTED], secret agent assigned to infiltrate the terrorist organization “Red Bamboo” in 1986, which has since dissolved with much of its top brass deceased or imprisoned.**

  
  


**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


The kaiju had never heard _this_ sound before. There had been a lot of strange sounds lately, but this was new. It almost sounded like he was talking to himself. He was sure none of his kin were awake, so puzzlement reigned in his relatively small brain. It was repeating, calling him from his comfy spot on the seafloor. Right in the middle of his meal, too.

Clicking his immense pincers in annoyance, Ebirah let the whale’s uneaten tail float away and began his journey landward.

Whatever he found would pay for causing such an annoying distraction.

Miles away, another creature heard the sound, as well as Ebirah’s response to it. He turned and immediately charted a mental path up to the surface, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery. The humans’ capacity for meddling would impress him if it didn’t cause so many problems all the time. 

Godzilla’s footfalls were hard and fast, curiosity and anger compelling him and quickening his pace. The Hollow Earth was a second home, but he longed for the salt of the ocean again. He would get to the bottom of whatever was going on and punish the humans accordingly. Let the Moth come. If she was foolish enough to try and sway him again, he would remind her of his conviction. For all of his uncountable world-cycles, he had always been a being of unwavering conviction, and this case was no different. 

Godzilla no longer wished for the end of the humans, as he had after their bomb took everything from him, but they were still so far out of line that he felt the responsibility to punish them. He had been cautiously optimistic when their species had developed the same intelligence as he and the others. He had walked among them, done his best to guide them. It had been a good and peaceful time.

When they threw it all away to fight amongst themselves, the great leviathan had distanced himself out of disappointment. When they repeated that mistake generations later, on a smaller scale, he had departed for the depths of the Hollow Earth, where they could not follow. There he had slept for a long time, hoping to awake to a better world.

Instead he had awoken to heat and force and that horrible, _wrong_ hellfire.

They had learned nothing. Even after his retaliation, death, and rebirth, they had learned _nothing._

It was infuriating, but his conviction drove him forward. He would teach them the lesson, over and over and over again until it was drilled into their very genes.

Times were hard for MONARCH. Reparations for the deaths of nearly three thousand staff were bad enough, but the situation kept going from bad to worse. Rodan causing a minor eruption of Mt. Aso and attacking right on Godzilla’s heels, a terrorist organization claiming to have control over kaiju, sightings of monsters from the First Age that had been presumed not missing but dead, and the ever-escalating Biollante situations in North Africa and the Amazon Rainforest. Worst of all was the (admittedly deserved) criticism they were receiving for keeping Godzilla’s continued existence a secret for thirty-six years.

It was giving Ishiro Serizawa more gray hairs than he already had. He had signed so much paperwork over the past fortnight that he sometimes found his hand tracing his name on the air with an invisible pen.

That day, however, he had something to look forward to. He would get to see Vivienne again. Not literally, of course; she was millions of miles away, bound for Earth aboard a state-of-the-art spaceship. Having recently departed Mars, she spent her days aboard the ship doing her research, and once every two weeks, she was allowed a video message filled with greetings and reports. Transmitting data as big as video through the empty vacuum of space took time, but it was worth it for them.

_“Hello, sensei,”_ the video Vivienne greeted, waving brightly at the camera. “ _I’ve got quite a bit to share this time, because some very important breakthroughs were made since we last spoke. I’ll start with the updates on the frozen kaiju, since that’s more up your alley.”_

Ishiro smiled. If she was getting the stuff she cared little for out of the way so fast, it meant she had something rather dramatic to reveal that pertained to her line of work.

_“They only managed to get a tiny sample- You know how hard it is drilling through permafrost- but what they got was all sorts of minerals, and radiocarbon dating puts the oldest at nearly 910 million years old. This thing is a lot older than the monsters back home, which could explain why it’s the only kaiju on Mars, frozen or fossilized. More time for natural processes to erase evidence.”_

Ishiro put a hand to his chin. He’d have to read more in the detailed text reports.

_“But, more importantly, I’ve cracked it. The natives’ language. Not a large crack, mind you, but I’m starting to make sense of their writing. It’s still incredible, knowing that intelligent life existed so near to us, and such a short time ago. Not to mention how I’m the first person to ever have the title of ‘xenolinguist’.”_

Before she could continue, the video paused as a priority alert appeared in the corner of his desktop. Ishiro rolled his eyes when he read the sender’s name, because Dr. Stanton had a reputation for abusing the priority feature, but his heart skipped a beat when he read the contents of the message.

_Two kaiju bound for Tokyo. One identified as Ebirah, the other unknown. Presumed to be Godzilla. Get your ass down here._

Ebirah could hear him. The deep one, the awakener. An old opponent, and an embarrassing defeat, from long before the softlings, the humans, even walked the dirt. He could sense the deep one’s attention was not on him, but the titan’s presence, and their shared destination, was disquieting to Ebirah. The immense crustacean found himself thankful that he had a head start on the leviathan; perhaps he would have time to find and stop the annoyance before the deep one arrived.

Indeed, the shore fast approached. Already Ebirah sensed the fear and panic among the little softlings, fleeing before him. That felt good. Not so long ago, a foolhardy group of them had managed to place him under their thrall. A timely attack by the sky-devil and her children had freed him, and even as he battled her, Ebirah had made it his objective to flatten as many of the insolent humans beneath his legs as possible. This sound was not like the frequency that had enslaved him then, but the familiarity of the situation set his heart pounding.

Never again would he be a slave, Ebirah resolved.

Hibiki Tachibana’s mission in life was to help people. She had decided that about three years prior, and had done an admirable job of sticking to that. Any time she spotted someone in need, she would do whatever was necessary to give them a hand.

Her survival at the last Zwei Wing concert had convinced her of something: that she still lived for a reason. When the power of her Symphogear awoke two years later, Hibiki was certain that she had found it. Wielding Gungnir, she could protect people directly, from kaiju or each other. Without that power, she would never have succeeded in getting Chris out of her abusive situation, nor would she have been able to help Tsubasa out of the dark place she had been in. She would never have been able to stop Ryoko- _Finé-_ from waking a daikaiju on the outskirts of the city.

That mission was why she did not rush to a shelter as panic overtook the streets of Tokyo for the second time in as many weeks. That unwavering, uncompromising conviction to help anyone in need was why Hibiki Tachibana instead dashed around the streets, offering directions to open shelters or even simply instructions to access basements, as well as helping those who could not move quickly to reach safety faster.

It was why she was not across town, punching Ebirah in the eye.

As kaiju rampages went, the giant lobster/shrimp/whatever was being rather tame. He moved slowly, not making a particular effort to destroy anything. With what glimpses Hibiki had managed to get, it seemed to her like he was looking for something. Ebirah kept stopping and spinning on the spot, before screeching in frustration and beginning to move again.

Unfortunately, despite the decided lack of malice in his behavior, he was still a kaiju, and simply too large to be there without smashing buildings and ending lives.

Hibiki sighed with relief when helicopters carried an immense shadow over her head, unmistakably a Jaeger from Tokyo’s offshore Shatterdome. She couldn’t recall off the top of her head which one it was, due to the more pressing matter of shepherding a group of stragglers into a cafe with a basement, but she was grateful for its presence regardless. With a little luck, the fight would be short and Ebirah would turn tail and flee quickly, as he was historically known to do.

Even as she held the door open, waving over a mother and child across the street, Hibiki felt her S.O.N.G. communicator buzz. 

All business, Hibiki pulled out the device and held it to her ear. “Hibiki here.”

_“Hibiki-kun! Where are you right now?”_ Genjuro’s voice.

“Taito Ward, shishou,” Hibiki responded. “I’m helping people evacuate.”

_“Shit, of course you are- listen to me, Hibiki-kun. I need you to get underground and stay there, right now. No matter what you see or hear, you stay safe. That’s an order.”_

Hibiki was about to voice her confusion when the ground shook beneath her feet. Her mind raced. Ebirah and the Jaeger, locked in combat, were too far away to create a jolt that strong, so what could have done it?

Her question was answered with sound.

To call the sound a “rumble” would not do it justice. It was the sound of absurd amounts of air filling immense lungs as their owner took another step. It was almost a musical note, so deep and powerful that Hibiki felt it reverberate in her core.

It was a sound well-documented, one often described, but seldom recorded. Even so, Hibiki recognized it. Genjuro’s shouts in the communicator faded, became distant. Slowly, almost entranced, Hibiki turned and confirmed her fear with her own two eyes.

Seawater dripped from charcoal scales, and the afternoon sunshine glinted off of dark claws. Rising above Taito’s suburban skyline, a black monolith of flesh and fiery blood, stood Godzilla himself.

A sudden and overpowering dread, an instinctive and genetic fear, gripped the teenage girl’s heart as she craned her neck to find the leviathan’s face, more than a hundred meters above.

The furious orange eyes were narrowed, darting this way and that, sometimes lingering on Ebirah and his opponent, sometimes cast high over the city and its surroundings, and sometimes glaring down into the streets.

Godzilla’s next step shattered the cafe’s glass window, and Hibiki realized just how _close_ he was.

And there were more people down the street, not safe in the slightest from Godzilla’s mere presence, much less his direct wrath. That fact solidified itself in her brain, overcame her terror, and forced her lips to move.

“IN HERE!” Hibiki screamed, and to her relief she was heard. She saw the man and woman hesitate for just a moment at the sight of Godzilla practically looming over them, but in the end the pair broke into a desperate run towards the cafe even as another ponderous footfall nearly knocked Hibiki off her feet. She could actually feel droplets of water falling on her head as he drew ever closer.

By the time the couple- and _Oh gods the man is carrying a toddler,_ Hibiki thought- reached the cafe door, Godzilla’s immense foot was just across the street, close enough that his mere body heat was almost suffocating. Evidently he had not noticed them, but his presence alone meant mortal danger. There was also the matter of the cloud of dust and debris behind him, made thicker with every slow sweep of his massive tail.

In two more steps, that tail would take out the cafe, and collapse tons of building material onto those hiding in the basement.

Hibiki gulped and steeled herself against the primal urge to flee for her life from a monster surpassing humanity. _I can’t let that happen._

She lifted the communicator again as Godzilla’s foot slammed down, now ahead of her. “Shishou. I’m sorry, but I can’t obey that order.”

Genjuro didn’t bother arguing, having expected this, and simply sighed in defeat. _“Please don’t get yourself killed.”_

Hibiki smiled. “I won’t.”

She looked up at Godzilla, who had paused for a moment, head tilted as if listening for something. On a smaller, less radioactive animal, it might have looked cute. Hibiki pulled down on the collar of her shirt, brushed her _forte_ -shaped scar with her hand. Prepared herself for the colossally stupid action she was about to take.

“Miss?” said a small voice.

Hibiki turned her head. It was the toddler from before. A little girl, wide-eyed.

“What are you doing? Are you gonna be okay?”

Hibiki put on her best confident face. “I’ll be alright. Everything’s just fine, so go back to your papa, okay? I’m sure he’s already wondering where you’ve gone.”

The child gave Hibiki a teary-eyed nod and ran back into the cafe, bound for the basement.

Godzilla’s foot came down again, the great tail moved, and the moment arrived.

_Balwisyall nescell Gungnir tron,_ sang Hibiki.

The heat began in her chest, at her heart, her scar beneath which the relic fragments rested. It rose up and out, burned away her clothes as it spread, disassembling the fabric at a quantum level and shunting the particles to some other plane of reality. It then settled tight over her body in their place, cloaking her in the Symphogear’s power. Her muscles, already toned and strong by virtue of regular training, were permeated by the phonic energy, and just like that, Hibiki Tachibana had leapt past the limits of the human body. All of this was represented by an orange-and-black bodysuit, hugging her like a second skin.

Next appeared the mighty gauntlets at her forearms, then the armored boots and shin-guards. After that, the headgear formed in place around her ears and head. Finally, a brace, anchored at her shoulders and protecting the back of her neck, folded open and spat a pair of long, flowing scarves.

With the transformation completed, having taken several seconds and somehow also no time at all, Hibiki Tachibana cocked back her fist, focusing on the immense tail that was still swinging her way.

_Ready…_ she thought, squaring her stance as the mountain of scales and osteoderms swept closer.

When it was nearly upon her, the girl pushed off, cracking the sidewalk with the force of her jump, and did something that no human being alive had ever done.

She punched Godzilla.

The attack had the desired effect; the raw force behind Hibiki’s blow stopped the tail in its tracks, the immense appendage’s path of destruction halted. It also shattered several of the nuclear leviathan’s scales, though they were beginning to repair or regrow before Hibiki’s very eyes.

The punch had another effect, however. Godzilla, startled by a sudden, sharp pain in his tail, slowly turned his body and neck to look backward. It took him a moment to focus on the spot the stinging was coming from, but as his enormous eyes narrowed and he got a clear picture of just what had hit him, the behemoth could not help his surprise.

It was a _human._

Not a monster, not a metal colossus, but a tiny little human dressed in armor. He couldn’t help the grunt of confusion that escaped him as he lifted his tail from the ground, ready to flatten the little primate.

His surprise only increased when the human dodged his retaliatory slam and _jumped_ at him, clearing tens of meters in a single leap and slamming her fist into his thigh. Again, that small but sharp pain as a few scales were blown away.

“Your attention on me yet?” called Hibiki, not sure if Godzilla understood her but fully aware that she was loud enough for him to hear. His fiery eyes followed her as she used the boosters at her Gear’s hip armor to land atop a still-standing roof. He seemed angry, as always, but something else glinted in the depths of his gaze. Most curious of all, he was silent.

Hibiki put it out of her mind and took a deep breath, let the song in her heart begin to play as she prepared herself. If her punches had stung him before, they were about to hurt a whole lot more.

_Gyutto nigitta kobushi senpā no thunder_

Hibiki leapt again, fully intent on striking Godzilla in the face this time. That plan was derailed when his massive palm barred her way like a dark wall, but it was a simple matter to grab hold of his hand’s scales and clamber over to the other side. His other hand came down, so Hibiki sprinted up his arm. To any observer, it would have looked as though the mighty monster was attempting to squish a mosquito. 

_Please just turn around and go home!_ Hibiki thought as she sang, already at Godzilla’s shoulder. When his massive hand loomed above her again, however, she was forced to leap backward into the air. Refusing to retreat, Hibiki punched behind herself, and the sheer force propelled her back in Godzilla’s direction.

_Kaihō zenkai… three, two, one, zero!_

His gigantic body lurched out of the way, avoiding a strike aimed at one of his dorsal spines. As she sailed past them and wound up in front of Godzilla, she heard a chorus of loud, low thumps, and even in the afternoon light Hibiki saw the pale glow suffusing the maple-leaf spines. It shone through his teeth next as Godzilla aimed at her, and Hibiki realized that if he fired on her at this angle, his breath would strike the street and the buildings. That was not an option.

_Saitan de massugu ni icchokusen_

Hibiki punched the air again and launched herself higher, above head height for the monster, and as she had hoped, his head lifted to follow her. The cavernous maw opened, and for a fraction of a second the Gungnir wielder saw a ball of blue flame churning at the back of Godzilla’s throat. Then he thrust his head forward, the ball became a beam, and Hibiki had to punch the air again- sideways this time- to avoid being burnt to a crisp. As it was, the stream of atomic fire passed close enough that Hibiki felt the heat on her skin, and the enhanced senses that the Symphogear provided let her actually see bundles of charged particles streaking by. Godzilla turned his head as the beam kept firing, and Hibiki was forced to punch at the air over and over again to stay ahead of it and keep Godzilla’s aim high enough not to damage the city further.

_Tsutaeru tame burst it, todoke_

The atomic breath faded, the last of it streaking harmlessly into the sky, and for the first time, Godzilla roared at her. Hibiki had never heard it in person before, but she decided right then that the recordings of it that she had heard did not do the sound justice. It was almost like a song in its own way, the pitch rising and falling, and ending in a sharp, throaty note. From so close, it was awe-inspiringly loud, and Hibiki knew that it was only thanks to the phonic energy filling her cells that her eardrums were not pulped by it. What was more, she could almost hear the frustration the monster was feeling.

_Naze watashi de nakucha naranai no ka?_

Indeed, Godzilla was frustrated. The human had proven herself capable of hurting him, if only slightly, and was proving almost impossible to hit. It baffled him that such a tiny creature had the speed and power to compete with him. Even stranger, she was singing. He knew song when he heard it, and the sound coming from the human was unmistakable. It was also louder than it had any right to be, overtaking his sense of hearing to the point that he had lost track of the clawed coward’s battle with the metal giant _and_ the strange signal that had brought him here. It was all around, as though the human was imposing her own presence upon him. The song was very like what he had heard distantly several nights prior. He glared at the tiny primate as she landed at his feet, let his overpowering nature wash over her, yet she sang on in the face of his wrath as though he was simply an obstacle to be overcome.

_Michi naki michi...kotae wa nai_

When she crouched down, power gathering in her legs, it finally hit Godzilla. Why the songs felt so achingly familiar despite being sung in the humans’ language. As he looked at the human, really _looked,_ and his sixth sense let him see the energies flowing around her armored form, which grew more intense the longer she sang on, he figured it out. The power even formed a familiar shape at the girl’s back, visible only to him, a pair of spreading wings that were so much smaller than the genuine article but instantly recognizable nonetheless.

His eyes widened in pure shock and white-hot fury as he understood exactly where this human got her power from. As she jumped up at him, once again headed for his face, he roared in rage and swatted at the orange blur of her form _hard._

Impact; the human hurtled away at high speed and slammed into a building several streets down, and the structure promptly collapsed with the force of the collision. Godzilla bared his teeth in a snarl, still processing his internal revelation, and looked to the fight between the shelled one and his artificial foe. To his surprise, the crustacean was winning; evidently this metal giant was not as powerful as the ones Godzilla had destroyed a short time ago. The strange signal had vanished, too. Another frustration; he had been so close to pinning down its source. Fuming, Godzilla turned away from the human city and instead faced the ocean once more, having been denied his objective and been subject to a horrifying revelation. So incensed was he that he almost missed the human’s song start up again beneath the rubble of the building.

_Kimi dake wo… mamoritai... dakara, tsuyoku tobe!_

When she came flying at him again, Godzilla chuffed and swung his tail, and the tip quickly broke the sound barrier. Hibiki barely had time to defend herself as the blow struck home and once again sent her flying across town with a visible shockwave, but the tiny human did not allow herself to smash into a building this time. She landed on her feet, ripping up asphalt as she ground to a stop, and simply charged once more, never missing a beat. She didn’t seem to get that Godzilla was done and on his way back to the sea, but it wasn’t like crushing her was any scales off his hide.

_Hibike hibike, hāto yo, atsuku utau, hāto yo_

She used the sides of buildings as springboards and leapt up at an angle this time, weaving between his massive hands as she ascended, and pulled back on her gauntlet to extend the piston within. When she punched Godzilla in the chest with all her might, shattering his armored hide, the piston fired and created a second, equally powerful impact which actually made the leviathan stagger for just an instant. Utterly incredulous, Godzilla looked down at the impact site, where the girl had managed to _draw blood_. Before she could punch at the air to get away from him, he swooped in and caught her in his hand. With the slightest triumphant snort, Godzilla closed his fist and squeezed, waiting for the satisfying crunch of her armor and bones giving way beneath his might.

But it never came, and instead he found his fingers being gradually forced apart as Hibiki sang onward, voice strained but unwavering.

_Heiki, hecchara, kakugo shita kara!_

Godzilla was subjected to the latest in a very long line of unpleasant surprises when Hibiki Tachibana overpowered his grip, and proceeded to jump off his palm and deliver an axe kick to his collarbone. While it did not even come close to breaking, the blow was still startlingly painful, and Godzilla snarled as he took a massive step forward. The motion slammed his chest into her, and she let out a startled yelp before punching the air again and launching herself up, well beyond his height.

_Tatoe inochi… karete mo... te to te tsunagu… nukumori ga_

Her song grew louder, stronger, and Godzilla saw them as clear as day. The wings on her back, just like those of his friend-turned-foe, shimmered in the sunlight as the little human’s eyes- which, Godzilla noted, were a similar shade to his own- practically glowed from within with power. Inspiring awe in a nuclear titan that predated the dinosaurs was no easy task, but on that day, Hibiki Tachibana, age seventeen, accomplished that feat.

_Nanika nokoshi nanika tsutai mirai miage_

Hibiki drew back her fist again, piston extended, and angled herself down, aimed right at Godzilla. She was determined to punch him in the face, and maybe, just maybe, get him to listen. It hardly registered to the girl exactly who she was glaring down at, fiery determination in every line of her form, every tightly corded muscle, but that sort of hyperfocus was what made Hibiki herself. She was fully prepared to slam her fist into her brow of the most infamous and feared kaiju in modern times, so that was what she was going to do. The idea of stopping never once crossed her mind as she punched upwards with her free hand and shot down toward his head like a human missile, not seeing the blue glow at his back nor hearing the telltale thumping of atomic fire readying itself for release. Her song never faltered.

_Rinto tatte kitto hana ni umareru to shinjite!!_

When Godzilla released a burst of atomic breath from his jaws, reality rushed back to Hibiki. She knew that if she continued her current course, she would be utterly barbecued by the flames. That was a fact. At the same time, she did not wish to abandon her assault. As she weighed both options in the fraction of a second between the breath’s release and its reaching her, Hibiki came to a solution.

She let her punch go a little early.

The blast of vibrant blue flame tore apart like it was hardly even there, dissipating into harmless wisps in an instant as a column of air roared out from Hibiki’s fist, buffeting Godzilla’s face and ratting windows for kilometers around.

Above, silhouetted against the midday sun, a simple human floated for a moment, a smile on her face. Then gravity took hold, and she landed atop a still-standing building, well below Godzilla’s height. He tracked her landing and glared at her for a moment; to her credit, Hibiki glared back.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, “Are you ready to listen?”

Godzilla snorted and turned, straightening to his full imposing height as he faced the ocean. The human finally seemed to understand that he was trying to leave, and he _felt_ the relief in her as she realized she would have to fight him no longer. Already the minimal damage she had done to his scales was gone without a trace.

Even so, she followed alongside him as he retraced his steps to the sea, staying in his original path of destruction. She jumped from rooftop to rooftop, seemingly very adverse to the idea of shutting her mouth.

“Can’t we just talk about this?” she pleaded as he ignored her, “They know you’re smart, all of you are! Even if you don’t understand me, you can feel what I’m trying to say, right?!”

Indeed he could, but the titan had other, much more pressing matters on his mind. Namely, the armor the girl wore that somehow gave her power on par with he and his fellow kaiju. He knew exactly where it had come from, and had a certain giant bug to interrogate. Thus Godzilla’s silence rebuffed any effort at communication that Hibiki made as she followed him for several kilometers, all the way to Chijo Ward.

“Why?” she asked, voice trembling. “What did we do?”

At last her pursuit stopped, and she merely watched him sadly as he made his way to the bay. As he put one foot in the water, Godzilla turned his head and narrowed his eyes, seeking her out. He could just see her, still watching him. He took a deep breath and, making sure she could tell he was glaring at her, released a glass-shattering, earth-shaking roar.

As he sank into the water up to his dorsal plates, there was another kaiju cry. Ebirah’s massive pincer tore the Jaeger clean in half, and the enormous lobster exulted in a rare victory before realizing shortly that the noise that had attracted him onto land was nowhere to be heard.

Screeching in frustration, Ebirah, too, began the short journey back to the ocean. Hibiki got to the scene just in time to watch the ruined Jaeger’s pilots climb down out of it, seeming mostly unharmed. Despite the severe damage, Hibiki quickly recognized it as Echo Saber, a Mark 4.

Suddenly, the headphones built into her Symphogear came to life, and Hibiki jumped as Commander Genjuro’s voice began assaulting her with questions.

_“Hibiki-kun! Are you okay? Still in one piece?”_

Hibiki couldn’t help the frown that came over her face as she recalled her failure to curb Godzilla’s anger. “Yes, shishou. I’m a bit banged up, but it’s nothing a good night of sleep won’t fix.”

_“Glad to hear it. At any rate, if you think you’re still in fighting shape, I have news. We pinpointed the source of the signal that attracted Ebirah and Godzilla. It’s not far from you, and we’ve dispatched Tsubasa and Chris-kun already. The location’s on your communicator.”_

“Thanks, shishou,” Hibiki replied, pulling the still-present communicator from a compartment at her Gear’s hip. “I’ll be there in a jiffy.”

_“Be careful, though,”_ Genjuro said, _“Because I don’t want to have to deal with your girlfriend if you really get hurt.”_

Hibiki reddened. “Miku isn’t my-”

But the Commander cut her off with a boisterous laugh and hung up.

“Is that really how we seem?” Hibiki mumbled as she took off, leaping from roof to roof even as emergency vehicles began to move in with the absence of kaiju.

As always, they would rebuild.

The man’s fingers were pale blurs of motion over his keyboard, his eyes boring into the laptop’s screen as he feverishly copied down his notes.

“The Symphogear’s power,” he breathed to himself in English, “It truly is impressive. Not at Godzilla’s level, though? Can they grow stronger with time? I suppose we’ll see. I doubt this is the last time they’ll cross paths.”

This man sat atop a rather innocuous rooftop, hunched over beside a dark-colored contraption, currently inactive, that superficially resembled a briefcase. The ORCA was its name, and it was the cause of the destruction of the day. A marvel in bioacoustic technology, and very possibly the man’s greatest accomplishment.

That man’s name was Dr. John Wayne Vercingetorix, often shortened to simply Ver. A studious man with a doctorate in kaijuology, along with a bachelor’s in bioacoustics. He’d done his fair share of dabbling in medicine and genetics too. A genius by every metric, and he knew it.

Which was why he was surprised when a frustrated, somewhat short girl clad in orange and white and gold landed not five feet away, on the rooftop that he had specifically chosen because his superior intellect had deemed it impossible to find.

“GAH!” he shrieked, slamming the laptop shut with a little more force than intended as he stood up and switched to Japanese, “How the hell did you find me?!”

“It wasn’t that hard,” the girl said, folding her arms, “We tracked that signal you used to lure Ebirah and Godzilla.”

“Technically,” Ver began, talking fast, “We only lured Ebirah. Godzilla just happened to hear it too and decided to come ashore. Believe me when I say I didn’t mean to draw him here, though your fight was a good oppor-”

“Is that it?” Hibiki interrupted him, eyeing the briefcase-esque item. “The BELUGA?”

Ver blinked. “The… ORCA.”

The girl smiled. “That _is_ it, then. I’ll be taking it, if you don’t mind.”

“I do very much mind!” yelled Ver, “That’s my life’s work!”

“Your life’s work is hurting people,” Hibiki said to him, taking a step toward the ORCA.

Only to immediately be forced to duck beneath the swipe of a massive spearhead, courtesy of a familiar woman in dark armor. Before Hibiki could recover, Maria had already picked up and folded the ORCA into a shape easier to carry, and stood protectively between her and Ver.

“You...” Hibiki whispered, eyes drawn to that armor, so similar to her own.

Maria’s own eyes stayed on her even as she addressed Dr. Ver, “This was reckless of you, Doctor. I can’t believe you made me come save you.” 

“I-I don’t understand how they tracked that signal,” Ver grumbled, “When we’ve only broadcasted it once before.”

“You may be an expert on all things kaiju, but you have a lot to learn about S.O.N.G., Doctor,” Maria told him as she tossed the not-briefcase to him. “Get below. Take the ORCA, too.”

As the Doctor scrambled to the roof access doorway, Maria finally turned her full attention to Hibiki. “Word is that you battled Godzilla.”

“Wasn’t much of a battle,” Hibiki admitted. “Hurts to say, but... he’s a lot stronger than me.”

“Can I assume, then,” Maria asked, leveling the dark Gungnir’s Armed Gear at her, “That you’re somewhat drained? Do you think you can win against me in your current state?”

Hibiki’s poor poker face betrayed her even as she replied, “Probably not.” The dissonance between that smile and that statement was Maria’s only clue that something was amiss, and she looked up just in time to spot a missile streaking her way, courtesy of Chris Yukine. Maria thrust her hand upward, and her black cape surged forth to cut apart the projectile, creating an explosion that she felt even at a distance. There was no time for rest as a familiar form clad in blue dashed through the cloud of smoke, and this time Maria had to bat away the attack with her spear.

“Hello again,” she said to Tsubasa. The swordswoman offered no reply, simply raising her sword to eye level. “Seems I’ve gotten myself into a bit of a situation.”

“Better hope your little friends get here soon,” Chris declared, landing on the roof beside her companions. “Or you’re gonna lose.”

Maria shrugged, smile still confident, “Maybe. Though one of you is a weak link, at least for the moment.”

Chris frowned and glanced at Hibiki, who didn’t refute the statement. “This idiot’s never a weak link.”

“We’ll see,” said Maria, “Though I wonder how well you and Tsubasa will be able to fight while protecting her.”

“You’re going to target her?” Tsubasa spoke up, “That’s dirty.”

“I’m outnumbered,” Maria said sharply, “So it’s not like I have the option to fight fair.”

“Or maybe,” Hibiki said, spreading her arms, “We could just not fight? I still don’t understand what you’re trying to do here! Why would you create more of the destruction and chaos that people suffered through for forty years?”

Maria frowned. “Do you think we’re doing this because we want to? Ideally, nobody would be getting hurt. The fact is, kaiju were going to attack whether we lured them or not. The fact that humanity resisted those attacks in the last century is why they continued for so long. We were like children refusing to accept our punishment for acting out, which only resulted in further consequence.”

“You can’t know that,” said Chris. “How can you possibly know what their intentions were?”

“What has happened to the Earth since we became the dominant species in the absence of kaiju?” Maria challenged, “The Mu Tablets prove that we coexisted peacefully with them for tens of thousands of years, but as soon as they left the picture, we turned to the habits that define modern history. The practices of war, the destruction of the ecosystem. Climate change alone is still a problem we’ll have to deal with in the future, regardless of what we do!”

“You think the kaiju are attacking us because… they’re disappointed? Tens of millions of lives, lost because we abused the Earth?” Tsubasa asked, slowly, as though beginning to see the point.

“It would not have been tens of millions had we just accepted their judgment. Finé’s aim is to make the world see that fighting back is not the answer. If we allow the kaiju to express their frustration, and change our habits accordingly to please them, we can return to the peaceful coexistence that the ancients enjoyed.”

“You’re condemning innocents,” snarled Chris, “For a future you can’t know for certain.”

Genuine frustration crossed Maria’s features. “Every single death now will prevent a hundred thousand more down the line. I don’t like it either. But if we do not do this, war with the kaiju will continue until one side eliminates the other.”

“I don’t agree,” Hibiki said, shifting into a ready stance. “If we can just figure out a way to talk to them, things will all work out. I’ll never stand by while people get hurt.”

Maria sighed. “I envy your optimism, Hibiki Tachibana, even if I cannot sympathize. I’m truly sorry that we have to clash on this matter.”

Chris reached her breaking point with a yell of, “If you were really sorry, you’d stop!” Ichaival’s hip armor then unfolded and produced four huge missiles that fired with no further preamble.

Maria leapt high as the missiles destroyed the roof, followed in short order by a determined Tsubasa. 

“Shall we change things up a bit, Tsubasa?” Maria asked, “I got to hear the song of a guardian, so how would you like to hear the song of a villain?”

“Villain? Then you know that what you’re doing is wrong?”

“There is no right or wrong here, Tsubasa,” Maria said. “There is only whichever path results in the fewest amount of deaths. If my actions go down in history as evil, but save future lives, I can accept that.”

With that, Maria Cadenzavna Eve took a lungful of the cooler, fresher air above the ground, tinged with the scent of the ocean breeze, and started to sing.

_Kono mune ni yadotta, shinnen no hi wa_

Tsubasa actually shuddered; the raw power behind Maria’s voice overtook her almost like a physical wave, crashing down on her perception even as the woman hurled her spear. The weapon streaked toward her in a blur, which Tsubasa barely managed to dodge by firing air from her Gear’s leg-mounted “wings”. Maria’s hand remained outstretched, and Tsubasa had to dodge again as the Armed Gear reversed course and returned to its wielder. On its way, it slammed into Chris, who was knocked away, cursing as she went.

“Tachibana!” Tsubasa ordered into her headset, “Don’t worry about us, just capture that doctor.”

_Dare mo kesu koto wa deki ya shinai, eigou no blaze_

Maria and Tsubasa let themselves fall, landing on another nearby roof, and Maria wasted no time stabbing forward with the spear. Tsubasa rose onto one foot and turned sideways to let the mighty weapon pass by, and then brought her blade upward. A clash of sparks knocked the Armed Gear upward, but Maria’s sharp, shadowy cape was already rushing forward to fill the gap in her defense. Tsubasa ducked underneath the deadly fabric and moved around to Maria’s side, and found her movements being tracked by blue-green eyes.

_Ima tatoe kono mi wo, yakitsuku sō to_

Maria’s fingers moved and the cape _folded_ , creating extra edges, all of which surged toward Tsubasa as the garment extended seemingly endlessly from the woman’s shoulders. The swordswoman managed to bat away three or four before the fabric wrapped itself around her blade. Maria adopted a triumphant grin as she clenched her fist and pulled her arm back, and thus the cape followed suit and yanked Tsubasa’s sword from her hands. Before her Gear could produce another, Maria’s lance was swinging for her head. Her evasive cartwheel brought her to the roof’s edge, so the guardian pushed off and landed on a shorter neighboring building. 

_Shinzu waga michi no tame nara, ten ni natte mo ī_

Maria followed with a leap of her own, Armed Gear spinning as she deflected several distant rounds courtesy of Chris. Tsubasa just managed to produce another sword in time to block her opponent’s downward drive with the spear, but immediately felt the roof at her feet crack under the force. Maria touched down and made a huge sideways slash that Tsubasa jumped over, but then, with speed that belied her weapon’s size, Maria lifted the spear above her head once more and brought it down. This time the roof caved in, but not only that, Tsubasa was slammed through three more ceilings, eventually coming to a stop on the ground floor. The swordswoman was still coughing on the dust when she was forced to roll away from a stab, Maria refusing to give up the advantage.

_Yami ni madō yoru ni wa, uta wo tomosō ka_

Tsubasa, teeth gritted, kicked a slab of the roof at her foe as she scrambled to her feet. Maria, totally composed, swatted the projectile out of the air with her bare fist, the motion also directing her cape to intercept a pair of Chris’s missiles that had followed her through the hole in the roof.

_“Can you hold still?!”_ Chris’s voice in her ear. _“I can’t give you good cover when I can’t see you.”_

“Easier said than done,” Tsubasa grunted.

Maria sang on as she approached, slow and inexorable. 

_Seikō no serenāde chikara yo yadore_

She spun the lance into a blur, passing it from hand to hand as Tsubasa got to her feet. When the swordswoman tried to raise her sword to guard, Maria slashed hard and fast, and it was all Tsubasa could do to turn the strike away with her blade. Even with the effort to defend herself, the attack simply went low and struck her knee; it took everything Tsubasa had not to let her leg buckle as the pain flared. Without the Symphogear’s durability, the blow would have crippled her for life. Maria looked down and examined the damage she had dealt, her song trailing off for once as she frowned at the injury, looking almost apologetic.

Teeth gritted in frustration, Tsubasa jumped back through the door and focused power to her sword. In a flash of light, the weapon grew exponentially in size, crackling with energy. When Maria exited the building, Tsubasa swung it to release an arc of sharp power, her Blue Flash. It was joined by crimson arrows from above, courtesy of Chris, and Maria was forced to protectively cloak herself in her cape.

Suddenly, Hibiki’s voice rang out over their comms, _“Tsubasa-san! I lost the doctor guy!”_

“What? How couldn’t you catch up to a normal human?”

_“He’s just gone!”_

“Did your friend fail to catch Ver?” Maria asked haughtily, striding out of the smoke cloud, unharmed. “That means my job is done.”

“You were a distraction,” snarled Chris, landing beside Tsubasa, crossbows still leveled at their opponent. “One of your little friends from the concert pick him up?” 

“Doubtlessly. Now, before they come to fetch me as well, what do you two say we end this on a high note?”

“Go to hell,” Chris roared, turning one crossbow into a pistol.

Tsubasa, despite wobbling a bit on her knee, matched her junior’s defiance. “I thought you said you didn’t like this.”

Maria began to spin her Armed Gear again. “I don’t like what must be done for the sake of humanity’s future. But this, fighting you? It’s a good time, even if I wish we were on the same side.”

_Zettai ni yuzurenai, yume ga hoe sakebu yo_

Phonic energy swirled around Maria again as she flung her cape at the two S.O.N.G. wielders. Tsubasa, putting her weight on her good leg, managed to turn away the attack, while Chris ducked beneath it and, uncharacteristically, chose to move closer to her opponent. The Ichaival user took some satisfaction in the way Maria’s eyes widened as Chris invaded her space, followed by a grunt of pain as Chris slammed the butt of her pistol into Maria’s nose. Off-balance, Maria let herself fall and turned the momentum into a somersault, featuring a high kick that caught Chris in the jaw, distancing them once again. Once back on her feet, she rubbed at her nose for a moment before continuing.

_Seigi no tame ni, aku wo tsuranuke_

Cursing enough to quail a sailor, Chris abandoned any notions of close-quarters combat and switched to her BILLION MAIDEN configuration, exchanging her pistol and crossbow for a pair of tri-barreled gatling guns. There was nobody in the building behind Maria, so, property damage be damned, she opened fire. Maria was once again forced to turtle beneath her cape, and unlike before, the projectiles actually seemed to be wearing into the fabric. Maria narrowed her eyes and glanced down just in time to spot a spark or two dancing beneath some of Gungnir’s panels.

_So, this is my limit?_ she thought to herself, then paled as she realized she’d lost track of Tsubasa.

“Is this a little too close?” the guardian’s deep voice asked behind her, and Maria would indeed have blushed at her proximity had a sword not immediately slammed into her abdomen, which had the additional effect of shattering her defense, letting Chris’s bullets pepper her as she was hurled across the ruined street. Even so, as she fought her way to her feet, the woman’s song continued.

_Namida nado iranai, musō no hitofuri yo_

She lifted the spear, and focused on what power remained to her. Her phonic gain gathered in the Armed Gear, her cape retreating to its normal length. The energies gathering in her spear were already visible to Tsubasa and Chris, and both wielders quickly surmised that this was the woman’s final gambit. They resolved to respond in kind.

Tsubasa picked an attack that would only need one leg. Her sword grew in size yet again, exponentially, until it dwarfed her, had reached a size that would give a kaiju pause. Engines within the weapon roared to life, and Tsubasa made ready to kick her Heaven’s Wrath at Maria.

Chris, on the other hand, let her hip armor unfold as far as she dared, bristling with two dozen missiles, something she internally dubbed the MEGA DETH PARTY.

Maria pointed the spear at both of them, confident in her own attack’s ability to hit both targets, and put all her heart into one last line of song.

_Kakugo wo ima kamaetara, hokori to chigire!_

But before the HORIZON CANNON could fire, before the mutually assured destruction of their three attacks could strike home, there came the deafening noise of jet engines. An angular aircraft appeared above the street, seemingly from thin air, and hovered, buffeting all present with winds.

“That’s a Super X-3!” Chris yelled. “What’s it doing here?!”

The back of the plane opened up, and a line dropped down right in front of Maria. The Gungnir user shook her head and lowered her spear. The phonic energy dissipated with the armor, leaving the woman in casual wear, and she wiped at a trickle of blood from her mouth as she grabbed the line.

“You think I’ll let you?!” roared Chris, ready to free her weapons, before Tsubasa’s hand found her shoulder.

“Nobody aboard that aircraft would survive if you fired now,” the guardian told her over the din of the Super X-3’s engines. “We’re warriors, but we are not murderers.”

Chris gritted her teeth and stowed her missiles as Maria reached the ship. The two S.O.N.G. wielders glared up at her as she stood alongside the little girls from the concert hall. Behind them cowered Dr. Ver, but what disquieted Tsubasa most was the newcomer.

He was a tall, aging man with thinning hair. Even at a distance the finer details of his face were distinguishable to Tsubasa thanks to the Symphogear enhancing her senses, and cold dread curled in her gut as she recognized him not from a prior meeting, but from a mugshot.

“Alan Jonah,” she breathed. “That’s where they’re getting their funding. He’s behind all of this. They’re conspiring.”

The bay of the Super X-3 closed, and the undoubtedly stolen aircraft activated its cloaking as it departed, vanishing into the blue sky as though it were never there.

“Guys!” Hibiki called, sprinting around the street corner in her normal clothes. “What did I miss? Where’d she go?”

Tsubasa limped over to the curb and sat as Ame-no-Habakiri vanished. “Yukine, Tachibana, things just got a lot worse.”

Genjuro frowned as Tsubasa finished her debriefing. Chris and Hibiki, standing at her bedside as she rested her wounded knee in the infirmary, wore distinct expressions of worry.

“Alan Jonah,” the redheaded mountain of muscle said quietly. “Wanted eco-terrorist. Rumored brains behind the operation that got a second Biollante growing in the Amazon. I’m glad we learned this early on, but that doesn’t make it any less concerning.”

“What makes him so dangerous, shishou?” Hibiki asked.

“He was captured about ten years back. Before his people busted him out, he went on record as saying that the world deserves a clean slate, one free of humanity entirely. From what we’ve heard, Finé’s goal is coexistence, so that doesn’t line up unless the man’s had an unlikely change of heart. He may be manipulating them and their resources for his own goal of human extinction.”

“Extinction?” Chris said, incredulous, “How the hell does he plan to manage that?”

Genjuro shrugged. “We don’t know. His actions over three decades of activity don’t seem to be building to anything like that, though he’s been known to sabotage kaiju defense systems through hacking and more direct methods. If Finé have figured something out, he may well be the most dangerous man on the planet right now.”

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air for a moment before the Commander of S.O.N.G. continued to speak.

“Speaking of Finé, we finally determined where they stem from, and how they got their hands on three Symphogears.”

Tsubasa sat up a little straighter at that, eager for an explanation as to how Maria got her hands on Gungnir.

“They appear to be remnants of our American branch, the F.I.S., which if you recall was shut down after allegations that they mistreated young Symphogear candidates. Dr. Ver had a stint there, and Maria Cadenzavna Eve was raised there. The other two with her have descriptions matching known candidates: Kirika Akatsuki and Shirabe Tsukuyomi. More importantly, Ryoko spent some time there as well. We’ve reason to suspect that each and every candidate once held there is capable of serving as a host body for the consciousness of Finé.”

“Genetic memory at work,” Chris grumbled, upset at the mention of her former abuser. Upon hearing her words, something switched in Hibiki’s brain.

“Shishou, that reminds me,” she spoke up. “When I was fighting Godzilla, he hardly seemed interested in me at first. But after I started singing, and he had some time to listen to it, he suddenly got really mad. It was like there was suddenly something personal. Like he knew who I was.”

“After you had some time to sing, you say?”

“Yes,” Hibiki confirmed with a nod. “It was like he’d heard my song before, and it brought back bad memories.”

Genjuro ran a hand down his face, then glanced from side to side. Getting up, he closed the door to Tsubasa’s infirmary room, before sitting down heavily and clasping his hands together.

“What I’m about to tell the three of you is some of the most classified information in the history of the Japanese government. Frankly, if anyone learns that I shared this, I’m liable to turn up dead in a back alley. But I’m going to tell you anyway, because the three of you ought to know.”

“Ought to know what, uncle?” Tsubasa asked, dropping her formal tone.

“The source of your power. I’ve told you that the Symphogears were constructed from ancient relics, but you never learned where the relics came from.”

“Now that you mention it,” Chris said, hugging herself lightly, “Finé would never tell me that either. Every time I’d ask, it meant punishment. It never made sense to me that something that old and man-made could be so powerful.”

Genjuro sighed. “They aren’t man-made, not entirely. The relics, and by extension your Gears, well... to put it in plain terms, they use the power of Mothra.”

All three wielders were struck speechless, until Tsubasa managed to say, “Continue.”

“Mothra’s songs, as well as the ones sung by her Shobijin, have been observed to have power. It is the exact same type of energy that the relics and Symphogears run on. The relics were constructed many millennia ago, by the finest craftsmen and scientists of the advanced prehistoric human societies. Mothra herself is believed to have supervised their creation, and as the final step of the process, donated her scales to be built into the relic. Ancient inscriptions, particularly the Mu Tablets, have given us this idea of their creation process. What’s more, Mothra even assisted us with the conversion of the relics into the Symphogear System, albeit through her Shobijin.”

“You mean to tell me,” Chris began, slowly, eyes screwed shut, “That our Gears run on moth dust.”

“More like moth song,” Genjuro corrected with a bemused smile. “At any rate, that may be why he seemed to recognize you, Hibiki-kun. To him, you must have seemed like a mini-Mothra with a bad attitude.”

“I do not have a bad attitude,” Hibiki gasped. “Though I did kind of... punch him.”

“That’s why,” Tsubasa whispered suddenly. “That day, three years ago… that’s why I felt stronger when Mothra arrived. She was… creating phonic gain.”

Genjuro nodded. “I’m sure this is a lot to take in.”

“Oh my _god,_ ” Chris groaned. “Understatement of the century, old man.”

When Godzilla surfaced, it was with purpose. He did not allow himself a slow and dramatic rise from the sea. No, he simply rose, treading water with his tail, and roared at the island’s shore. Birds and insects and humans were startled into action instantly, but did not flee the beach as they realized Godzilla was not coming ashore.

They did bow, however, as the shadow of their Goddess passed overhead, roused by Godzilla’s call.

Mothra hovered protectively over the shores of Infant Island, staring Godzilla down, and asked him in a series of angry chirps and chitters what his business was.

He wasted no time in roaring his accusation at her; that she had provided the humans with mighty weapons, engines of war capable of killing kaiju. When she did not deny it, his eyes flashed, and he turned away from her with a snort, expressing his disappointment and betrayal.

After everything they did, even _before_ they advanced enough to create the bomb that turned him into a monster, the Moth had seen fit to equip them with everything they needed to rule the Earth.

He listened to her explanations, at least; that they had been under attack from too many furious kaiju, that she believed her guidance would lead them to use those weapons properly. They all sounded like weak excuses to him, until she told him of one’s use in a battle against The Enemy. That was compelling, but it did not make her actions correct considering that one of those weapons had been brought to bear against him, in a different form. When she admitted that she had even helped them reinvent those weapons into the armor he had faced that day, Godzilla dove beneath the waves immediately, not willing to risk losing his temper entirely. If he damaged that island, there would be hell to pay, even from her.

He headed for the Hollow Earth, confident that Rodan and Anguirus, at least, would understand this newfound reason for his rage.

**CHAPTER VIII: Godzilla vs. Symphogear**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is so long because, frankly, it is the most important chapter so far. Godzilla and Mothra are this story's main characters; one way or another, they will be the reason for most events. And here is my explanation for how the Gears are integrated. How else was I to incorporate music armor than by linking it directly to a kaiju that has literal insert songs? Mothra has always been on our side, even if that meant arming us with the means to fight her fellows off. Was she correct in doing so? A certain nuclear lizard/synapsid/crocodile? would answer "no". I also must be candid here; due to their close relation to Moth Mom, the Symphogear cast will end up being the primary human characters. I won't neglect the others, but Bikki and friends will have the spotlight more often.  
> Ver is a little different here. Still the wily crazy antagonist we all love to hate, but he's relinquished his main villain role to Charles Dance.  
> Next chapter- a little field trip for Shinji and Asuka. Expect chapters going forward to be closer to this length than that of the first few.  
> Your viewership warms my cold, dead little heart, and your comments set it beating again, so they're always appreciated. Stay healthy and stay safe.


	9. CHAPTER IX: To Mu

_The Mu Tablets are, to be frank, the most important archaeological discovery in the history of the field. A physical record of ancient, highly advanced civilizations that peacefully coexisted with the monsters currently menacing us. Translating them is slow going, but we have a lot of time to look even if we aren’t allowed to take the Tablets from their resting place. I don’t know what put our team in Manda’s good graces while pretty much every other monster is out for blood, but I won’t look a gift sea-dragon in the mouth. She even checks in on us sometimes, makes sure we haven’t broken anything. It’s kind of surreal._

**From a letter written by archaeologist Takuya Fujita of the first Mu Expedition, dated December 12, 1992.**

  
  


**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


Shinji Ikari sometimes wondered which god he had pissed off by being born. As if being essentially forced to pilot a giant robot against kaiju weren’t a big enough problem, he now also had Asuka to deal with. And that, at times, was worse. Shinji had gone to bed more than once over the past few days missing the painful squeezing of Rodan’s talons. He’d even found himself wishing that his father had deployed them to fight Godzilla a few days prior. At least then he would be dead, and not sharing a classroom and an apartment with her. 

Shinji personally felt that the only thing keeping him sane between Asuka and his new responsibilities as an Eva pilot was Misato. The woman had a bit of a modesty problem around the house, and drank entirely too much alcohol, but other than that she had been more of a guardian to him in a week and a half than his father had in fourteen years. It was refreshing to have someone truly invested in his well-being. 

However, she wasn’t perfect. Misato had a tendency to spring things on him without any sort of warning, much to his chagrin. It wasn’t like he ever really had plans that she interrupted, but prep time was something he appreciated. 

Which was why, when he walked into the apartment’s living room on a Saturday morning and saw her standing by the fridge, fully dressed with a grin only describable as “shit-eating”, Shinji prepared himself for an unpleasant surprise.

“Shinji-kun,” she began cheerfully, “I have something very special planned for today, so hurry and get ready!”

“Where?”

Misato winked. “Classified until we leave. Chop chop! We don’t wanna miss our ride!”

“Please let this be a normal field trip,” groaned Shinji, still rubbing sleep from his eyes even as Asuka yelled that she was taking the shower first.

When the three of them arrived at the dock, deep in the bowels of NERV HQ, any illusions Shinji might have had about this being a “normal field trip” were well and truly shattered. Heightened security when they traveled was to be expected; he and Asuka were some of the most important people in Japan(a fact that still utterly baffled Shinji), so they never went anywhere unprotected. He’d expected something like an aircraft carrier, but what he got was almost concerning.

It had sometimes been called a “Frankenstein’s monster of warships”. A partially apt description, as the vessel bore the general shape and function of a submarine, though it possessed quite a few more fins than most subs. Its sail more closely resembled an aircraft carrier’s island than an average submarine’s sail, and said sail was surrounded by an actual deck, sporting battleship-like artillery. No visible propeller adorned its aft, replaced instead by a mighty thruster, and great blades jutted out of its fore; one on the upper half of the hull, one on the lower. The strangest and most recognizable thing about this vessel, however, was the gigantic drill at its nose.

The _Gotengo_ had come to NERV Headquarters.

Shinji turned to Misato, pointing at the ship. “That’s really there, right?”

Misato smirked. “Hell yeah it is! Count yourselves lucky, kids, because you’re getting a privilege offered to very few: a ride on the _Gotengo_!”

Asuka blinked, wide-eyed. “You know, this feels like overkill for a quote-unquote ‘field trip’, Misato. Where exactly are we going?”

The older woman put her hands on her hips, grinning mischievously. “I won’t tell until you’re on board.”

“Can ya hurry up and get them on board?” said a newcomer in clipped but coherent Japanese. “I get that these kids are important and all, but the _Gotengo_ is a warship. Sooner they’re off it at their destination, the sooner I’ll be able to respond to the call of duty.”

Said newcomer was a tall, tanned caucasian man. He wore a trench coat over his PPDC uniform, but what stood out immediately to Shinji and Asuka was his mustache.

“Captain Douglas Gordon,” he introduced himself with a polite yet shallow bow. “It’d be nice if you could go ahead and board. The amount of taxpayer dollars going to this trip of yours is already high enough as it is without you holding us up here.”

Asuka chuckled. “We’re Eva pilots. Every breath we take wastes taxpayer dollars, old man.” 

“Jesus, you’ve got a mouth on you. I’m only fifty.”

“Everything after forty is old,” Asuka replied, heading off to board the sub. “I don’t make the rules, but I do enforce them.”

Gordon threw Misato a questioning look, who only shrugged her shoulders in response. “Kid’s trained to pilot an Eva so long that she forgot her manners, I guess. Not like I raised her, I’m just her guardian as long as she’s here.”

“How about this one?” asked Gordon, turning to Shinji, “Seems quiet, which is already an improvement.”

“Oh, uh… hello. I’m Shinji Ikari,” Shinji said, bowing. “Pleased to meet you, Captain Gordon.”

The burly man smiled. “I’ll be damned,” he said in English before switching back to Japanese, “Why can’t all kids these days be that polite?”

“Are most people not polite to you?”

Gordon huffed. “Have you seen me? I look like a redneck, yet here I am in charge of one of the most advanced military vehicles ever built. It’s like findin’ a monkey in the driver’s seat.”

“How long have you captained the _Gotengo_?” asked Shinji as their little group began the walk to the sub’s boarding platform.

“Christ, twenty years now? My first big fight was Dogora in Ukraine. They teach you about that one? Nasty-ass flying jellyfish thing. We still aren’t even sure if we really killed it.”

Shinji nodded. “I’ve heard about that one. Wasn’t it almost-”

“Gaseous,” Gordon nodded, opening the _Gotengo_ ’s hatch, “So we hit it with freezing missiles. You know your stuff, Shinji. You might be able to figure out where we’re going.”

As Shinji took hold of the ladder and began to climb in, he looked to Misato. “Where _are_ we going? And why isn’t Ayanami coming with us?”

“We need at least one pilot to hold down the fort, since she’s recovered. Now get in the drill-sub, Shinji,” Misato replied cheerfully. “I’ll tell you and Asuka where we’re going together.”

When Shinji was out of sight, and Misato was on the ladder herself, Gordon raised an eyebrow at her. “Why the secrecy, Miss?”

Misato rolled her eyes. “Girl’s gotta have a little fun. You have no idea how dull NERV work is.”

Down below, Shinji was admiring the _Gotengo_ ’s bridge. It hardly resembled that of a normal submarine’s, instead being a wide, circular chamber divided into levels by height. At the center sat the highest post, almost on a pedestal, which Shinji surmised to be Captain Gordon’s. The whole bridge was lit a soft, almost calming blue-green. Asuka sat at one of the weapons control panels. None were armed, but it still disquieted Shinji to see her sitting there, eyeing the levers and knobs.

“Don’t touch anything,” came Gordon’s voice as he entered behind Misato, “We don’t want anything going off in your lovely little underground fortress.”

“It’s all disarmed,” Asuka pointed out. “Or did you forget that you did that, in your old age?”

Gordon let out a wry chuckle. “Ooh, I’m gonna wind up locking you in one of the torpedo tubes at this rate, kid. Outta the chair.”

Asuka huffed and jumped to her feet, blue eyes wandering the bridge. “Why’s it so empty in here?”

“Crew’s on break,” responded Gordon. “We had to cross the Pacific to get here, so I gave them some more time than usual. If you feel like meeting them, head to the galley.”

“I’ll pass,” said Asuka. “More importantly, can you _finally_ tell us where we’re going, Misato?”

“Okay, okay. By Mothra, you guys have no patience. The Commander figured the two of you could use a bit of advanced education in regards to what you’ll be fighting, so he’s arranged us a visit to the Mu Tablets.”

Asuka’s eyes widened, but it was Shinji that gasped. “ _The_ Mu Tablets? We’re going to the sunken kingdom?”

“That’s right,” she affirmed. “This ship discovered them, so Manda knows it by sight, thus we won’t have any trouble getting in. Assuming she’s around, that is.”

Asuka, in an exceedingly rare show of politeness, raised a hand. “Question. Why go to see them personally when they’ve been extensively photographed and replicated for displays all over the world? I don’t think anybody _hasn’t_ seen the Mu Tablets at this point.” 

Gordon laughed, “Kid, you really think everything on those tablets is available to the public? A couple of the researchers from the first expedition are dead now because they tried to leak the real secret stuff.”

“Which,” Misato interjected, “Goes for you two as well. Not even your position will protect you if you spread this kind of info.”

“This is like… an Illuminati type of thing?” queried Shinji, looking back and forth between the two adults.

Misato smiled. “Nah, the Illuminati actually funds us, partially. This stuff is pure international government conspiracy, kind of like how MONARCH hid Godzilla. If everything that the higher-ups knew was available to the world at large, it’d be global anarchy.”

“Those terrorists with the Symphogear seem like they’re gonna create that pretty soon, whether information leaks or no,” Gordon grumbled. “France is already talking about shutting down their kaiju defenses, and there’ll be more places considering that next time they sic a monster on a country.”

“Commander Ikari’s not a fan of that whole Symphogear concept as a whole,” added Misato, “Thinks tampering with an energy source we know so little about is a recipe for disaster. I heard them once though, from a distance, and their music… calmed me, somehow.”

Shinji almost missed her run her finger down the small Cross of Mothra hanging around her neck.

“At any rate,” Gordon said, “We’re departing in ten. The trip’ll take a few hours, since Mu’s way out in the middle of the Pacific. You’re welcome to roam the _Gotengo_ in the meantime, but don’t go anywhere you aren’t supposed to.”

“We won’t,” Shinji answered just as Asuka said, “No promises.” He turned to look at her immediately, hoping to convey his disappointment. She just showed him that smug grin.

“God, it’s like you’re trying to get put in the brig,” Gordon sighed.

At that, the young girl showed her first sign of outward interest. “You have a brig?”

“Do us all a favor and lock the door behind her if she goes inside, Shinji,” said Gordon with a conspiratorial wink.

The trip out of the Geofront was uneventful. The underground canal was clearly artificial rather than natural like the majority of the space, and thus there wasn’t much to look at through the _Gotengo_ ’s ports. Instead Shinji took Gordon’s offer to “roam”, and there was quite a bit of roaming to do thanks to the vessel’s sheer size. Normal submarines didn’t reach a length of 150 meters, but then, normal submarines didn’t fly, either. 

The crew was, accordingly, quite large. Shinji could hardly turn a corner or climb a ladder without encountering or nearly bumping into someone, and “Sorry” was already becoming an automatic response. The crew were generally polite about it, at least to his face, though a few cautioned him to watch where he was going.

He tried his best, he really did, and it was only that effort that saved him from walking directly into Asuka. He didn’t want to think about the consequences if they had collided, considering how she was chewing him out for _almost_ bonking into her. There was really no way to win.

“Where’re you even headed?” Asuka asked.

“Honestly, I’m a little lost. Everything looks the same in here.”

“Fear not, o poor lost idiot, for the great Asuka Langley Sohryu will guide thee through these halls,” Asuka pronounced, raising a hand to the ceiling, “How’d you like my Jaeger Pilot impression?”

“Do they actually sound like that?” asked Shinji.

“Well, they aren’t full medieval knights, but the ones I met sure talked like they were fresh out of drama class. Or reading a movie script.”

“You haven’t told me much about that,” Shinji said, leaning on the wall. “Your night with the PPDC, I mean.”

“I’ll tell you about it when you tell me all about your fight with Rodan,” replied the girl, voice full of fake sweetness as she patted Shinji’s head. The action prompted a rush of blood to his cheeks, a response that he was starting to grow used to.

“It really wasn’t a fight,” Shinji admitted quickly. “It was more like him throwing me around, trying to figure out what my Eva was.”

Asuka glanced around, then grabbed his arm.

“E-eh?”

“Quiet, idiot Shinji. I’ve got a question.”

Shinji gulped, more than a little uncomfortable. “W-what is it?”

Asuka tossed more glances down the hall, then glared into his eyes, which he did not mind despite how scary her stare was. “Do you know what the Evas are? Your dad’s the commander, so I figure you have some insider info.”

Shinji did not miss her mutter of “Even if you don’t deserve it,” at the end, despite how quietly she’d said it.

He hadn’t enjoyed any of the insults she had constantly thrown his way since she arrived, but that one cut especially deep, for some reason he couldn’t place.

His brows drew together. “Asuka, I’ve barely said more than a few words to my father in my whole life. I don’t even know his favorite food, much less the secrets of his paramilitary organization.”

Only by virtue of her intense stare was the flash of emotion in Asuka’s eyes visible. Shinji was surprised when her grip tightened for a split second, only for her to release his arm right after.

“So that’s how it is,” Asuka said, oddly quiet, “That’s why you’re… the way you are.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” asked Shinji, his own voice rising with incredulity, “Why do you get to judge me?”

“Don’t act like you haven’t been judging me from the second we met, idiot.”

“Oh, sure. I guess I’ll just sit there unquestioningly and take your abuse like a good little boy. That’s just how you _express_ yourself.”

Asuka let out a short laugh, “Where’d this lip come from? I knew you had no bite, but I didn’t think you could bark, either.”

“God, you’re horrible.”

“Maybe, but you’re used to that, aren’t you?”

At that, it was Shinji who let a laugh escape. It was more a wheeze, a noise formed from a blend of mirth, pain, and defeat.

“Yeah. I guess I am. Why are you asking me, anyhow?”

Asuka sighed and leaned on the opposite wall, arms folded as she let a crewman pass. “I fought a kaiju for the first time when I was with the PPDC. The simulations don’t really do them justice, but the big difference was that I got hurt.”

Shinji raised an eyebrow in mock disbelief.

“Stop acting surprised, you dolt. Thing got some lucky shots, that’s all. The point is it damaged Unit-02. Punched a hole through its hand.”

Shinji blinked. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me. I never thought I’d learn what _that_ felt like. But here’s the weird part.”

“The weird part,” Shinji repeated, nodding slowly.

“Oh, would you stop being a condescending prick for just one second? The weird part is, when I looked at the hole a few seconds after it was made, there wasn’t a hole anymore.”

Curiosity overwhelmed Shinji’s present dislike for his fellow pilot, and he couldn’t help his interest as he asked, “Like, as in, it closed up? The damage fixed itself?”

“Yeah, but the odd thing is, the armor wasn’t fixed. Just the components underneath, though it was dark out so I couldn’t see them that well.”

“Come to think of it,” Shinji said, remembering something, “Rodan broke my- er, Unit-01’s back. But before he left, I felt it snap back into place.”

“Broke Unit-01’s… what the hell happened to you?”

“It was _Rodan_ , and I’d never been in an Eva before. The fact I even survived is a miracle.”

“I’ll give you that, I guess. There’s a reason he gets mentioned in the same breath as Mothra and Godzilla,” huffed Asuka, “But back to the point, it sounds like we both experienced it. How did our mechs fix themselves mid-battle, and why are ours the only ones that can?”

“Nanometal?” Shinji suggested.

“That Becket guy thought so too,” Asuka mused. “Isn’t that stuff still theory?”

“I-I’ve only read a Wikipedia article, so…”

“How on Earth did your dad jump light years ahead of every other mecha in terms of engineering? What a scary guy…”

“ _Scary” doesn’t begin to cover it,_ Shinji thought bitterly even as Gordon’s gruff voice sounded over the intercom.

_“Would our guests, wherever the hell they are, mind making their way to the bridge? We’re coming up on Mu. You’ll wanna see this.”_

“Has it been a few hours already?” Asuka wondered aloud, walking away from Shinji, “Does this thing distort time or something? These tiny hallways are messing with me.”

“Asuka, hold on!”

She turned to look at him. “Yes, idiot Shinji?”

Shinji sighed, “Can you walk slower so I can follow you?”

Asuka contemplated for a moment, humming to herself. “Sure. Take it as my apology for what I said earlier. And I don’t apologize often, so this is a big deal.”

As they made their way to the bridge, it took all of Shinji’s self-control not to reply with “You don’t say?”

The bridge was significantly more crowded when the pair of them arrived. Every seat was filled, with the members of the crew watching their respective monitors intently. Some were more active than others; the loudest sound in the _Gotengo_ ’s bridge was the sound of keys being tapped. Despite the almost futuristic aesthetic of the room, analog keyboards were present, rather than the digital kind seen on holodesks.

Nobody looked up at Shinji and Asuka’s entry, though Gordon’s captain’s chair swiveled to face them. 

“You two enjoy your tour?” Gordon asked. 

“Shinji got lost,” Asuka replied instantly.

“Did he, now,” said Misato, walking in behind them. “Thanks for bringing him back in one piece, then. You said we’re almost there, Captain?”

“That’s right. We’ll put our cameras’ view up on the big screen when it’s in view. Helluva sight, I gotta tell you. How nobody found this place before the eighties is beyond me.”

“Maybe some did,” Shinji began, “But…”

“Manda? Seems possible, I guess. She’s a temperamental thing.”

“‘She’, hmm?” Misato said, “I always wondered how they decide on the pronouns for these things.”

“Manda’s female according to the Tablets,” said a woman’s voice from one of the desks. “We don’t really have a way to confirm that with her, but seeing as the old Muans knew her best, I doubt they’d be wrong about that kind of thing.”

“Focus on your monitor, Casprell,” Gordon chided. “Ozaki, what’s our distance?”

A young Japanese man near the front of the bridge turned to them. “Two kilometers, sir. Past this ridge, we should have a visual.” 

“Bring it up, Palotti.”

After an affirmation, the viewscreen at the front of the bridge changed displays to a feed of the water outside. This far down, it was dark but for the _Gotengo_ ’s floodlights, but said lights were powerful enough to light a good distance in front of the mighty warship. The underwater landscape was anything but flat; the whole place was a mess of ridges and massive boulders. It looked for all the world like the aftermath of a kaiju fight.

“ _Schiesse_ , what happened down here?” Asuka wondered aloud. 

“That’s super-secret Tablet stuff,” answered Gordon. For now, have a look at the main attraction.”

The _Gotengo_ passed the final ridge, and there it was; a colossal stone gateway. It was easily big enough for the _Gotengo_ to pass through with room to spare, and beyond it the ship’s floodlights had already begun to illuminate the sunken kingdom’s ruins.

As the great vessel passed slowly through the threshold, Gordon once again turned to the guests from NERV. “Miss Katsuragi, Shinji, Asuka, welcome to Mu.”

At that moment, Fate made her sense of timing known, as a growling roar ripped through the water, loud enough to be audible within the ship’s interior.

“Oh, boy,” Gordon grunted. “Momma’s awake.”

On the viewscreen, something moved in the dark, just past the reach of the _Gotengo_ ’s floodlights.

Breaths were held. While the _Gotengo_ herself was no stranger to these waters, those aboard it had never been to Mu before. Their hope was that their usage of the ship would signify good will somehow, but without proper communication between men and monsters, such things were impossible to confirm.

As the _Gotengo_ continued to float forward, the sunken ruins illuminated clearly now, those in the bridge got a good look at the moving shape in the darkness.

It was a tail. 

A broad fin adorned it, a nearly translucent turquoise membrane compared to the darker blue-green scales of the limb itself. It moved slowly back and forth, but did not move from their line of sight.

At that moment, a proximity alert sounded, and Shinji’s breath caught in his throat as _she_ finally moved into frame.

A great draconic snout with long, trailing whiskers was visible first, the mouth slightly open to allow a pair of yellowed fangs to be seen. A forked tongue tasted the water as the rest of Manda’s mighty head, bigger than the bridge they stood in, moved closer to get a good look at the _Gotengo_. Slit pupils in immense golden eyes dilated when they moved into the direct beams of the ship’s lights, but the eyes did not narrow. In the distance, the tail vanished into the dark as the massive sea serpent’s body undulated, moving the rest of her closer.

“Is she, uh…”

“Watching,” Gordon said, “She might be judging us.”

“Judging us how?” Asuka said, quietly, “We’re a big metal ship.”

“He means _us_ , Misato replied, “It’s believed that some kaiju have a sort of telepathic sixth sense.”

“So she’s checking our character?” Shinji wondered, glancing at Asuka, who looked appropriately nervous.

When Manda’s massive eye did finally narrow, it did not appear to be in anger, but simply scrutiny. At length, with a low, rumbling bellow, she seemed to be satisfied. The massive head began to move out of the frame, revealing long horns extending from the back of the Goddess of Mu’s skull. Also present were vertebral spines, connected by the same membrane they had seen on the tail to create what looked rather like a sail. As Manda swam away, revealing more and more of her absurdly long body, the sail ended, though the line of protruding bone spines continued. A pair of powerful arms, ended by clawed, webbed hands, also came into view for a moment, aiding in her propulsion. Protruding from the shoulders were long, fleshy tendrils tipped with poisonous barbs.

After that came another very long stretch of torso, a thick line of sea-colored scales glittering slightly under their lights. After what felt like a minute, Manda’s hind legs at last arrived, slightly larger than the forelimbs, with an extra joint plus wider feet. On land, they were known to support her weight digitigrade. After that came her tail, equally as long as her body proper, and once again the sail-fin was back. It took another minute of slow movement for the broad ending fin to pass their cameras, and this meant that at long last, Manda had granted the _Gotengo_ and those aboard entry to her home. 

Sighs of relief were abundant as Gordon ordered them to be steered towards the largest of the ruined buildings, the site of the Mu Tablets.

One of the many puzzles surrounding the sunken city of Mu was how exactly some of it wasn’t waterlogged. Though the whole city was housed in a flooded dome, some of the buildings had enduring, breathable air pockets. Some attributed it to complex structural engineering, others to the plant life that had overgrown the destroyed buildings, but there was no consensus.

It amazed Shinji as he stepped out of the water into the building. This particular structure had fallen at an angle, meaning that the only way of access was a hole in what used to be the floor. It was testament to the building’s size that said hole was easily able to accommodate the _Gotengo_ , and as Shinji looked back, he just managed to catch sight of the warship’s sail sinking back into the water. It would wait outside Mu’s dome, in order to properly receive transmissions. 

It was just him, Misato, Asuka, and a man introduced as Kazama who had been assigned to keep an eye on them. The four of them had been made to sign non-disclosure agreements before leaving the ship, and Shinji had indeed found a threat on his life upon inspecting the fine print. These redacted Tablets were serious business.

Evidently the world’s governments were not alone in that opinion, because as soon as the _Gotengo_ had gone, Manda’s head rose from the water’s surface, a rumbling growl in her throat. Seeing her in person rather than on camera, without meters of metal separating them, was an entirely different experience. Her golden gaze was overpowering, an almost physical weight upon Shinji’s shoulders, and he was reminded of the Lovecraftian tales of men gone mad when faced with Old Gods. Were the wide open interior of the building not lit by enormous lamps brought by the last expedition, he had little doubt that the serpent’s eyes would be glowing.

She just watched them, not suspecting them but prepared for foul play, as they approached the massive, brightly-colored Mu Tablets. The immense slabs and the part of the floor that they rested on were not at the same angle as the rest of the building, and it was presumed that their architect had known of Mu’s fall and built the place to survive accordingly. Accounts in the Tablets themselves claimed select Muans as “Eyes of the Gods”, ones who had visions of the future, so running conjecture was that the person behind this building possessed that ability. Prophetic visions were a bit absurd scientifically, but much of the Tablets proved so accurate that outright dismissing the more fanciful information was not an option.

Resting before each thirty-foot Tablet was a metal box, bolted to the floor. Within each was a binder, containing the translated inscriptions of the corresponding Tablet. Shinji had read most of these, albeit in his class textbooks, and while it was fascinating stuff, he was more interested in the stuff he hadn’t gotten to read.

So he looked for Tablets he didn’t recognize, splashes of color he hadn’t seen in photographs, and it didn’t take long to find one. 

It was covered in oranges and yellows, the ancient paint hardly faded. Simplistic caricatures of humans were rendered in thin brown lines, while the undetailed yet recognizable shapes of kaiju were in brighter, more distinct hues. This tablet seemed to depict a battle, one not just between monsters, but men.

As Shinji’s eyes traveled down the stone structure, following the illustrated tale of the Tablet, things got much darker. Of the two kaiju depicted, one was doubtlessly Manda, judging by the shape and the remarkably accurate color of the blue-green paint used. The other was a dark gray, almost black, a hulking bipedal reptilian shape with a spiky back. It immediately brought Godzilla to mind, but there were inconsistencies. The shape of its spines was wrong, and its stance was more hunched, with a small head and thicker body. More importantly, it was immense; if this kaiju scaled to Manda and the humans pictured, it was far larger than Godzilla could have been millennia ago.

That was when Shinji opened up the box and looked at the translations. Apparently the inscriptions described the battle between the Muans and a group whose name the translators had failed to approximate. The mysterious other kaiju was named only the “God of the Sea”, and it supposedly fought Manda to a standstill in a battle that devastated Mu. As Shinji read on, he fully expected this to be the tale of Mu’s sinking, but upon reaching the end, discovered that the great city had rebuilt in little time after the fight.

“What happens next?” the boy muttered, stowing the binder and closing the box as he got to his feet, “One of these has to discuss the fall, right?”

He cast his glance around, looking for Misato or Asuka. He was confident that both of them felt the same as he, and only wanted to focus on Tablets they had never seen before. He found Asuka first, looking up at a Tablet splashed heavily in white, and made his way to her. She sat cross-legged before the box, the open binder in her lap.

He stood behind her and looked down, trying to get a look at what she was reading about. As he leaned forward, he got a purely accidental glimpse down the front of her shirt and whipped his head away, desperate to turn his attention anywhere else after viewing such a forbidden sight.

_Not now, hormones,_ he pleaded desperately as he searched for something, anything, to distract himself. That something ended up being Kazama, who was doing some stretches. The man had little interest in history, apparently.

“I know you’re there, idiot Shinji. It’s rude to read things over peoples’ shoulders, you know.”

“S-sorry,” he apologized, still trying to clear his mind of what he’d seen, “Can I s-sit, then?”

“I’m not stopping you,” Asuka said, utterly oblivious to his plight, “This stuff’s pretty interesting. This tablet’s all about something they call the Goddess of Light, but it’s pretty easy to tell…” she trailed off, pointing at the Tablet.

Shinji followed her finger to one of the white shapes, a great winged form as Asuka finished, “...that that’s Mothra. Apparently, she traveled the world and witnessed many great battles between factions of humans and their gods. These fights are collectively called the First War.”

“First of how many?” Shinji asked, examining the artwork. It indeed depicted Mothra observing scenes of carnage, conflicts between both humans and monsters. He recognized other distinctive silhouettes; the eight legs of Kumonga, the spread-eagled flying shape of Varan, the great tusks of Mapinguari, and, in one depiction that sent chills down his spine, the fiery wings of Rodan.

“Not the first of how many,” replied Asuka, “The _First_ . The First War _ever.”_

The pair of them stood together and moved to a third Tablet. Misato stood in front of it as they approached, rolling her Cross of Mothra over in her hand as she read.

“Misato-san, what’s this one about?”

“The conclusion,” Misato said, gravely, “How the war came to an end, and how Mu sank beneath the waves.”

The two teens looked to the top, which, rather than fights between monsters, depicted rather familiar scenery: kaiju obliterating human cities. Several depictions of giant beasts stomping on buildings and people were visible.

_“The Gods,”_ Misato read, _“Gradually grew exhausted of war. In their fondness for humankind, they had grown soft, allowed themselves to go along with the ambitions of their faithful. When they came to realize that the motivation behind these attempted conquests was simple greed, the Gods visited their wrath upon the peoples of the World, and distanced themselves from their worshipers. First to do so was the Deep One of the South.”_

Asuka immediately recognized the so-called “Deep One” by the drawing. The detail was sparse, but just enough care had been given to the shapes of the dorsal spines that the kaiju was instantly recognizable as Godzilla.

Misato continued, _“As the peoples of the World were scattered and abandoned by their Gods, we of Mu grew bolder. As our opposition dwindled, we redoubled our efforts to create our empire, engineering new war machines and summoning Gods to fight for us as if they were mere beasts of burden. Mighty Manda remained our defender, never leaving our island city unprotected.”_

The next illustrations depicted new kaiju, ones Asuka and Shinji had never seen, ravaging cities and kingdoms unopposed. 

_“Our continued zealotry will anger the Gods further. In the end, they will come together to end us. A shadow will fall over Mu, and the seas will claim our people as punishment. Manda will not come to our aid.”_

The last two images depicted Mu. Above it hovered Mothra’s silhouette, but instead of brilliant pure white, here she was rendered in deepest midnight black. Burrowing a hollow, unstable cavern beneath Mu, a pair of kaiju Asuka initially couldn’t place, but soon recognized as Anguirus. One of those two had appeared in 1955 and been killed, but as far as she knew, the second one was unaccounted for. On one side of the domed island city, the Godzilla-esque God of the Sea stirred up what appeared to be a great tsunami.

The second image was Mu sunken beneath the waves, Manda curled protectively above the broken dome yet offered no help as her people drowned. Shinji turned to look at the sea serpent, still raising her head out of the water, and could have sworn he saw her horns droop with shame.

“This is where the tablets stray into prophecy,” Misato said, “And they _do_ offer an explanation as to how Mu could have sank all at once, but something’s wrong.”

“You’ve found a plot-hole?” Shinji asked.

“I think so,” Misato said, closing the binder as she lifted her cross. “It may just be due to what my faith teaches, but I just don’t believe Mothra would doom an entire civilization to a watery grave like that, no matter their crimes.”

“Keep in mind she did attack Tokyo and New York to get her Shobijin back, Misato,” Asuka reminded her.

“That was a show of force, with an exceedingly low casualty count and a peaceful resolution. There’s really no comparison there.”

As the women debated Mothra’s morals, Shinji found his eyes drawn to something that, unlike the rest of this building, was rather small, almost hidden. It was a normal-sized doorway, open but its interior shrouded in shadow.

He walked over and passed through, only to be immediately struck with a chill. The room was dark, and he fumbled at his belt for the standard-issue light he’d been given.

When he turned it on, he was greeted to a small, square room with a ceiling high above. It appeared to be made of the same material as the rest of the building, but the ceiling and walls were still dark, by way of paint rather than absence of light. It was as though someone had sprayed the paint haphazardly, almost frantically, making a misshapen blob all over the room’s interior. It didn’t seem to represent anything to Shinji at first, but the longer he looked at it, the more he realized that there was some shape to the shadow. He couldnt’t tell what it was, but the extensions reaching down from the ceiling to near the floor almost brought to mind wings.

When he turned to see if there was more, he screamed.

There was a corpse in the room, slumped against the wall.

An ancient corpse, dead for tens of millennia, withered to a near-skeleton but for the dried skin stretched tight over its bones.

“Shinji-kun!” Misato exclaimed, entering the room at a run, “What’s wr- oh Mothra.”

Asuka was hot on her heels. “What’s gotten into you now, idiot Shinji?”

“I-it just startled me, th-that’s all,” Shinji said, a hand over his heart, “Is that…?”

“I’d guess so,” replied Misato. “Makes sense that they’d be in this building when everything in their vision went down. Why did they pick this room to die in, though?”

“You guys, there’s writing on the floor.” Asuka pointed out.

Misato and Shinji looked down and saw them, four symbols spaced out evenly and written in heavy brushstrokes, as if for emphasis.

“No binder in here, huh?” Misato mused, kneeling down and examining the symbols. “I know a little bit of Muan… let me think, here.”

She got up and moved to the first symbol. “This one… oh, this says ‘Death’.”

“Comforting,” Asuka drawled.

“Ssh,” shushed Shinji.

“The second one… ‘Song’. Maybe they got a glimpse of the Symphogear system? And the third one… it’s a number, all the numbers in Muan share a certain symbol structure… that’s three.”

“That doesn’t sound like a sentence,” Asuka murmured. “Are you sure you know your Muan?”

“Quiet,” Misato said. “The last word is ‘Storm’.”

“Not a sentence,” Asuka concluded with a nod. “Something tells me the guy went stark raving mad right before the end.”

The logical part of Shinji’s brain agreed with her. The nonsensical words, coupled with the haphazard and vague painting on the walls and ceiling, were plainly indicative of sanity lost. But deep inside, somewhere, Shinji wondered if there _was_ meaning behind it. Meaning that they weren’t ready to understand.

“Death Song Three Storm,” he muttered as he left the dark room, Misato’s hand steadying his shoulder as he tried to recover from the cold and his shock.

There was something behind Manda’s golden eyes as she looked at him, some knowledge beyond the ken of humanity. She knew what it meant, but had no way to explain it, to make them see.

Such is the frustration of a monster.

**CHAPTER IX: To Mu**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exposition, whee. Manda is one of my favorite non-mainstream Toho kaiju, so she's getting much better treatment in this fic than she did in Atragon, Destroy All Monsters, and Final Wars. She's also female, because I said so. I actually thought she was before I watched Atragon, which is a bit of a snoozefest movie anyhow. Mapinguari is the kaiju "Behemoth" from G:KOTM.  
> Next week, I finally give Kirika and Shirabe substantial lines! My summer course also starts, so between that, Xenoblade Chronicles Definitive Edition, and this, I'm gonna be a busy man.  
> I also have a twitter, @lawsofsacae, where I word-vomit about my interests. I might occasionally post drawings of the kaiju redesigns present in this story.


	10. CHAPTER X: Saws and Scythes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sung in this chapter, we have an absolute BANGER in "Edge Works of Goddess ZABABA". As usual, Gear insert songs are available on the Symphogear wiki, and I recommend listening to this one during or after reading this chapter.

_...Alien life. Not so long ago, the stuff of conjecture and science fiction. In a world nearly overrun by giant monsters, you’d think the idea would be easy to accept. And yet, when a giant robot entered our atmosphere and slammed to earth in Korea in 1974, yet another truth of existence was revealed to us: we are not alone. Mechagodzilla forced us to redefine our ideas of the universe for the second time in two decades, not least because of its destructive potential. The damage it dealt to both Koreas, still recovering from their war, was so devastating that the two countries were forced to cast aside their tensions in the aftermath to survive. It’s a lucky thing that Mothra managed to lure the robot to Okinawa and work with King Caesar to destroy it. Who knows, it may have even surpassed its basis- Godzilla himself- in terms of kill count if they hadn’t. Despite the aversion of what could have been a much greater catastrophe, the question on everyone’s minds after Mechagodzilla was this: What else is out there?_

**From “Monsters Exist” by former MONARCH director William Randa, published 1985. Easily dated by its use of the incorrect romanization “King Caesar”, rather than the proper “King Shisa”.**

  
  


**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


“Yes. Thank you, Miss Saegusa. I’ll pass this on to Marshal Aso at Tokyo Shatterdome. And yes, I’d love to meet you for tea next time I’m in the neighborhood. Should I bring Mako? No, she’s not too busy. No busier than me, anyways. Thank you. Goodbye.”

Stacker hung up, his eyebrows raised. Good news was a rare commodity in these troubled times, and discovery of a new pair of drift-compatible potential pilots was worth its weight in gold to the man. 

Without the research conducted on Miki Saegusa’s brain, the Jaeger Program would never have come to fruition. As such, the psychic woman had a direct line to him as Grand Marshal, just in case she discovered drift-compatible pairs during her regular visits to the many other anti-kaiju militia. The PPDC’s authority superseded all others, so it was a relatively simple matter to poach people from the forces of the JSDF or the UNGCC.

Sometimes Stacker realized just how shady that was, but being so directly connected to Miki Saegusa wasn’t something he could just _not_ use to his advantage. It was common opinion that she was the most powerful non-politician in the world, and as such she had massive influence without all the bureaucracy and red tape. America had even pushed for her brain to be registered as a weapon of mass destruction(something she had publicly laughed off), but the rest of the UN had shot that down rather quickly.

“Who was that?” a woman’s voice called.

Stacker turned around and walked back over to the head of the Mark Three Restoration Program, his foster daughter, whom he had been talking to when Miki’s call came through.

“You remember Miss Saegusa, don’t you?” Stacker asked.

“It would be hard to forget someone that famous,” Mako replied, eyes still on her tablet. “Just catching up, or did she have something more pressing to talk about?”

“She found some new prospects in Tokyo. A couple of JSDF officers. One of them was MG-II’s pilot, so there’s even experience there.”

“I wonder how they’ll make the transition from analog controls to the drift,” Mako wondered, “I feel like things would only get easier, right?”

“I wouldn’t know,” replied Stacker, “I was only a Maser operator before they discovered my drift compatibility.”

“Speaking of,” Mako began, “Have you given any thought to-”

He cut her off, “Mako. You know exactly why the idea of you piloting a Jaeger doesn’t sit right with me.”

“And I’m touched that you’re so protective,” she responded evenly, “Moreso than my blood father, at that. But I’m a grown woman. Even as my legal father, you can’t stop me from doing this.”

“Here, however,” Stacker reminded her, raising one finger, just as he had chided her as a child, “You are not only my daughter, but my _subordinate_. And as your commanding officer, I don’t want you in the Conn Pod of a Jaeger. Maybe someday, but not yet.”

“I’ve talked with Mister Becket, seen him training. He _thinks_ like me. I know he needs a co-pilot, and you can’t be that. Not consistently.”

Stacker had no proper retort, which was rare. “You understand that the real thing isn’t like a simulation.”

“I’ve _already_ seen the real thing, remember?” she replied, voice hard, “Without anything between me and the monster. No armor, no weapons, just me and 60 meters of reptile. Until your squad blasted Titanosaurus in the face and got him to turn tail.”

“I remember.”

“Then you know why I want to be a Ranger. Why I followed you into your line of work.”

Stacker looked at her. Every time he did, it was hard not to see the scared little girl from two decades ago, despite how strong she’d grown since that time. He really couldn’t ask for a better daughter, which was exactly why he didn’t want to risk losing her.

And yet, wasn’t he doing exactly that by keeping her from her goal? 

“Revenge will not bring you any catharsis, Mako,” Stacker sighed.

“I don’t want revenge,” Mako replied, “I want to make it so there aren’t any more little orphan girls like me. I can help people.”

“You can’t save everyone.”

“No, but I can save those in front of me.”

Stacker held her gaze for a moment, watching the fire behind her eyes. 

“I’ll consider it. That’s all I can promise, Mako.”

The creature had not “seen” in a very, very long time. He had forgotten what it truly felt like to see. He didn’t necessarily miss it, as what he did instead was far more efficient, but not even he was immune to nostalgia.

With his old eyes, all he would see was this simple ball of blue and green and white floating against the black backdrop of the void. With his current “sight”, however, he saw much more. His scanners, even at this distance, tracked significant energy signatures as they traversed the world below. All of them mighty, several of them labeled as threats by the systems augmenting his brain. Still, he preferred any and all of the ones below to the sleeping presence on the smaller, distant red globe. Trifling with such a mighty force would be the end of him; of that, he was certain.

He had had his “eye” on this world for a good while. He had circled it, latched onto an asteroid orbiting it, for many stellar cycles. He had watched it become covered in ice, and measured its gradual heating as of late.

And then there were the sounds he got. Oh, the sounds. How they carried to him through the vacuum was beyond him, but they were absolutely fascinating. The state of things down below was more chaotic than it had ever been since his arrival in the planet’s orbit.

As such, being the scheming, conniving, sadistic creature that he was, the biomechanical beast had decided it was time for his grand entrance. 

His processor ran one last diagnostic check, informing him that every augmentation was functioning at full capacity, and as such so were his organics. He flexed muscles unused for millennia, flesh and titanium alloys, and pushed himself up through the thin rocky crust that camouflaged his body. “Standing” on such an asteroid was difficult as it rotated chaotically on its orbit, along with being only several times bigger than he. The planet crossed the “sky” of this asteroid over a period of several minutes, so the creature simply had to worry about timing.

He watched space as the blue ball came into view over the asteroid’s tiny “horizon”. A long inactivity period had allowed the dark matter drives in his cybernetics to refuel, so making the trip from this distance, within even the orbit of the planet’s Moon(which the planet’s inhabitants had in fact recently colonized), would take mere hours.

Pointing himself at the planet, the creature jumped, firing his drives instantly. Breaking free of the asteroid’s negligible gravity was a simple matter, and he could already feel the tug of the planet’s own gravity well pulling him toward it ever faster. He’d have to slow down on reentry, of course- no sense in damaging himself before he even arrived- but this trip would be blessedly short. It would also take him further away from the whatever-it-was on Mars. The raw power in that beast despite its dormancy chilled him to his latticed bones. But he would worry over that no longer, for he had a planet to terrorize.

Clanging the mighty scythes on his arms together, the monster from space tore through the vacuum at Mach 130, beelining for a particularly interesting, massive, yet sleeping presence on the blue planet below. It rested on a small chain of islands, currently facing away from the world’s star, where his eye had observed much of the activity from this planet’s giants.

His toothed beak opened in a grin as he imagined adding himself to the list of the locals’ problems.

Lydian Academy was a comfortable place. It had once been _more_ comfortable, when it was two campuses instead of one, but the Symphogear Incident of the previous year had forced the Academy’s college campus to also hold the high schoolers’ classes. With that had, naturally, come an increase in the student body(though not a massive one, as many concerned parents had pulled their children), and as such, more of the dorms were filled. 

It was within one of these dorm rooms that a pair of young women were in the process of winding down for the evening.

“Miku, really! It’s nothing! I’m perfectly fine!”

“Mhm, you’re fine. You squared up with _the_ Godzilla, and you’re _just fine_. This bruise is turning yellow, Hibiki.”

Hibiki looked over her shoulder, surprise in the arch of her brow, “Wait, really?”

Miku’s black hair rose into view, framing a face tinged with worry and a bit of frustration. Miku Kohinata, her sunshine and closest friend, let Hibiki’s shirt drop over her back and folded her arms.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Hibiki shrugged, offering Miku a nonchalant smile, “I mean, it’s not like it hurts or anything, or I would’ve noticed it by now. I feel like my usual self!”

Miku walked around to Hibiki’s front and leaned forward, inspecting her face. “You’re telling me the truth, right? No more secrets.”

Hibiki scratched her cheek absentmindedly before responding, “Well, I guess my chest’s been feeling off for a few days. It’s off-and-on, though, so I don’t think it’s anything major, or even a result of Godzilla.”

“You punched him, right?” Miku pressed, taking Hibiki’s hands, “Couldn’t you have radiation poisoning? Like all those people in 1954?”

“Miku, S.O.N.G. already tested me for that,” Hibiki said, “Didn’t you hear? Nobody’s come down with that yet even after his last attack, and the cleanup crews are already walking around without hazard gear. They think his radiation’s cleaner now.”

Miku sighed and sat down heavily on their couch. “I’m sorry, Hibiki. When I heard what you did, I was just worried sick… I know you’re anything but ordinary, but so many people have died at the hands of that monster.”

Hibiki took a seat next to her, and wrapped a strong arm about her shoulders. Miku leaned into the embrace as Hibiki replied, “That was a long time ago, and I don’t believe he would just do that without some kind of reason. Something happened to him that made him angry… he’s not as angry now, but he still isn’t over it, I don’t think.”

“Dr. Serizawa killing him probably didn’t help,” mused Miku, “But I wonder what exactly could set him off to the point of doing… what he did.”

“I wish I knew,” Hibiki whispered, “I wish I could ask him.”

“Are you going to reach out your hand to Godzilla, too?”

“If there’s some way for me to, I’ll find it and do it.”

 _And that’s why I love you,_ Miku wanted to say, but instead she just said, “As long as you don’t get hurt.”

“Miku, they’re giant monsters,” Hibiki said, waving her free hand around, as if to vaguely represent a kaiju’s size, “One of these days it’s gonna happen.”

“I mean _really_ hurt, Hibiki,” Miku confirmed, cuddling a little closer, “Like that time at old Lydian, you know?”

“That was then,” said Hibiki, “This is now. I’m stronger.”

“But…” Miku started, almost unsure if she wanted to say the next part, “Are you strong enough? I just worry about you so much.”

“Miku…”

But before Hibiki could reassure her further, put her mind at ease, ringing filled their dorm. 

Her communicator, but Hibiki didn’t move.

“Hibiki, you should get that, shouldn’t you?”

Miku felt her shining sun’s hand curl into a fist. “Yeah. It could be important. Probably.”

Hibiki slowly, almost gingerly, let go of Miku. She got up with a sigh and crossed the room to the table her communicator rested on. Her movements seemed to lack her usual boundless energy as she held the device up to her ear and answered.

“Hibiki here. E-eh? Yes, I’ll leave right away. You’re sure that’s where…? Oh. I understand. Goodbye.”

“Hibiki?”

When Hibiki turned to look at her, Miku immediately spotted the graveness that had overcome her face. “It’s _them_. They’re… they’re at old Lydian.”

Miku stood. “Then they’re there to-”

“They must be,” Hibiki nodded, pocketing her communicator and striding across the room to Miku. She stood there in silence for a moment, then reached forward and pulled Miku to her.

Their arms wrapped around each other, as they had so many times before, each simply finding comfort in the other.

“Please come back safely,” Miku said, almost pleading.

Hibiki pulled away to look her in her green eyes. “I will. Wait for me.”

Only when Hibiki had closed the door behind her and set off into the night, did Miku allow herself to sink back onto the couch, her head in her hands.

“What happened here?” Shirabe murmured, “I mean, I know what happened here, but what _happened?_ ”

“What, this?” Dr. Ver replied, making a grand, sweeping gesture with his arm, “There used to be a lovely little music academy right here. Doesn’t look like much more than a vacant lot now. You can thank our organization’s namesake for that. She was trying to do what we’re here to do, though her machinations also involved strengthening the kaiju.”

“And what kaiju is that, dess?” Kirika asked, adding her little verbal quirk to hide her unease at beholding the destroyed landscape and the one remaining, damaged structure.

“Tell me,” said a cold, accented voice, “Have you girls ever heard the myth of the Earthquake Beetle? A great shelled beast, a bug with a dragon’s head, so enormous that its burrowing made the ground shake.”

The voice belonged to a tall, elderly man. Despite his age his steps were steady, and he walked with his hands joined behind his back and a permeating air of authority surrounding him.

This man was Alan Jonah, an accomplished eco-terrorist. His web of influence in the black market, combined with funding from several sources, was the only reason any of them were able to put this plan into action.

Kirika and Shirabe didn’t like him.

“I’ve heard of it,” Shirabe responded, stepping back as the man approached, “Are you about to tell me that the kaiju here is what inspired the myth?”

Jonah smiled his twisted smile. “Right you are. You may also know it by a different name, though the two of you had to have been quite young at the time. Does ‘Muto’ ring a bell?”

“Those things from six years ago, dess?” Kirika asked, “You mean this is one of them?”

“A very old one, if the information we ripped from MONARCH’s database is correct. In her age, she was able to grow much taller than either of the monsters that appeared in the ‘San Francisco Incident’. Enough that they’ve classed her as a _dai_ kaiju.”

Shirabe frowned. “So she’s that big? No wonder Finé wanted to make use of her in her plan.”

“We won’t be able to make use of her Kadingir, though,” added Nastassja, rolling up to join the little group with Maria at her side, “Perhaps that’s for the best. She wished to make this kaiju too strong for any other monster to stop, but we simply need the beast as she is.”

“Is that what that building is for?” Maria asked.

“From what I heard,” Ver said, “The old lady wanted to alter phonic gain’s waveform in a way that would allow it to augment a kaiju’s strength and durability. In essence, she was going to give Jishin-Mushi a Symphogear.”

“Until those three stopped her,” Maria finished with a nod. “Yet here we are, finishing Finé’s mission by waking it. They doubtlessly know we’ve arrived already.”

“I’ll get right to it, then,” Ver said, hoisting the folded ORCA, “I already have the bioacoustic frequency ready, based on recordings of the smaller two.”

“Do you expect me to applaud?” Jonah drawled, “Get to it, boy.”

Ver’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses, but he walked off toward the bizarre multicolored building without another word.

When he arrived next to it, he paid it no heed and simply sat, unfolding the ORCA. Finé had built this so-called Kadingir directly above the daikaiju’s resting place, so the closer Ver could get, the better.

As the good doctor fiddled with the settings, making sure everything was in order, Jonah continued, “Did you know MONARCH had prior knowledge of the Muto six years ago? They believed they had the beasts ‘contained’. Not only that, the creatures are detailed in those lovely Tablets. That’s where their name came from: _Mu’utohiarn_. Muan for ‘our enemy’. They were once a prolific parasitic species, dangerous to the point that their young were to be killed on sight. Seems this is the only one left.”

“If it’s as massive as you say, I’m not surprised it outlasted its kin,” Maria commented.

“You’ll see soon enough,” Jonah said darkly before calling, “Ver, you blithering idiot, what’s taking you?”

“Ask me again and it’ll take even longer, you wrinkly old fuck,” Ver roared back.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Jonah deadpanned, “Well, I would, but...”

“Hurt him and you’ll answer to us,” Shirabe intoned, moving to Maria’s side.

“Oh, yes,” Jonah said coolly, “Dear Nastassja needs his biochemical talents to stay alive, no? Not to mention he makes your LiNKER. Strange that he makes both it and your Mom’s medicine from the same solution, though. Wouldn’t you say?”

“Godzilla’s cells truly have miraculous properties,” Nastassja replied evenly, “Though they have to be treated and altered heavily so that they don’t overwhelm the human immune system.”

“I wonder what’d happen if they aren’t watered down, dess,” Kirika murmured.

“Who knows?” Nastassja answered, reaching up to pat the young girl’s head, “Maybe I’d turn into Godzilla.”

“Well,” Jonah mused with a wry chuckle, “At least then you wouldn’t have cancer anymore.”

That earned him glares from all three of the group’s wielders, but he didn’t notice, for by that point he was too focused on the thrumming vibrations he was feeling in the soles of his shoes. Ver sprinted back to them, holding the ORCA, his face slightly frantic.

“Okay, she’s awake. Can we get out of here now?”

“What?” Jonah asked, voice unnervingly cheery, “You don’t want to greet her? Rather rude of you.”

At that moment, just as the ground began to shake, Nastassja coughed. It was a horrible, shuddering sound, all fluid, and the old woman’s hand came away from her mouth bloody.

“Mom!” Maria exclaimed, dropping down, “Why now, damn it?

“Let’s get on the jet,” Ver growled, beginning to wheel Nastassja over to the Super X-3. “You’ll die all the sooner if we miss a dose.”

“Wait!” Kirika called after the retreating pair, “What are we supposed to do?”

Nastassja looked at Jonah, then back to the girls. “You will attack the kaiju to get her attention, and then lead her into the city.”

“What?” Maria said.

“There was a shockingly low casualty count between Ebirah and Godzilla last week,” explained Jonah, “Because we can only attract them, not make them rampage. Bioacoustics aren’t advanced enough for that. I think that there’s another reason so few people were injured, but it’s only a theory of mine.”

Maria stiffened.

“Mind sharing while we can still safely have this conversation?” Ver spat, eyeing the trembling earth nervously.

“Well,” Jonah said, wizened features forming a smug smile, “I think someone was helping the civilians without our knowledge. Tell me, Maria; why did the effects of your LiNKER run out so quickly in your battle against S.O.N.G.?”

Nastassja and Ver turned to look at the pink-haired idol.

“You were running around town behind our backs beforehand, saving people. Weren’t you?”

“And if I was?”

Jonah laughed. “Well, it’s not like I can stop you, what with bullets glancing off your skin in that Gear of yours. Still, you must know how… counterproductive… such actions are, hmm?”

Maria gritted her teeth, but then turned as Nastassja addressed her, “Maria. You cannot be afraid to stain your hands with blood. This is the only way.”

Maria had no response, and simply watched as Jonah, Ver, and Nastassja boarded the Super X-3. When it had lifted off to a safe altitude, she turned to the bulge in the ground beneath the defunct Kadingir, steadying Kirika and Shirabe with a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Are you ready?” she asked, “It’s highly likely that, with the advanced warning time of Jishin’s bioacoustics going off, and her proximity to the city, that we’ll have company beyond S.O.N.G. We may have to battle a Jaeger, or, God forbid, an Evangelion.”

“We’ll be fine,” Shirabe said, raising her voice over the rumbling of the ground, “Because we have you here with us.”

“Yeah,” Kirika chimed in, “We know we can rely on you, Maria. There’s nothing to worry about with you here, dess!”

Maria sighed, “Honestly, you two praise me too much.”

“You were there for us when nobody else was,” came Shirabe’s simple reply, “That’s reason enough to give you everything we have.”

Maria held out a pair of syringes, filled with green liquid. “You’re… you’re going to need your LiNKER, then. Feels like she’s almost out.”

The two girls, with an ease that made Maria’s heart hurt because nobody their age should have been used to this action, pressed the needles to the sides of their necks and pressed the buttons. One pneumatic hiss later, and the LiNKER was in their blood. Maria, for her part, had taken some earlier.

They all drew their pendants and watched with bated breath as the earth exploded, shattering the small Kadingir into a million pieces.

A dark arm, tipped by a single mighty claw, rose into the night, before slamming back down to hook around the rim of the hole it had just made. It was joined moments later by a second, matching arm, and over the sound of thousands of tons of earth collapsing, there came a chorus of deep clicks.

“Is it just me,” Kirika grumbled, “Or do all of these things sound way different in person, dess?”

The daikaiju’s arms flexed, lifting the monster’s gigantic body ever closer to the surface, displacing more of the ground above it. What broke through next was not the Muto’s head, but a second pair of powerful limbs, for these creatures possessed eight of them despite being mammalian. Four gigantic arms, as big around as a redwood and infinitely sturdier, braced against the ground and pushed, sinking in slightly as a hundred thousand tons of kaiju made its way to the surface for the first time in thousands of years.

Next to appear was her back; a hunched, ridged affair, spiked almost like a crown. Beneath the moonlight, the kaiju’s leathery skin shone, brighter in the spots that were riddled with battle scars. A deafening rumble filled the air as Jishin-Mushi took a breath.

At last, her head; a broad, flat thing, sloping down to what resembled a beak at her snout. Her lower jaw seemed more flexible, stretching and thinning almost like a fused pair of mandibles. For such a supposedly mammalian creature, she was unsettlingly insectoid, a true example of why the scientific community called most kaiju “taxonomic nightmares”.

Jishin-Mushi, the Queen Muto, pulled herself out of the hole entirely and straightened to her full height, balanced on six immense legs. The final pair of smaller limbs curled close to her torso as she threw her great head skyward and _bellowed,_ announcing her return to all who could hear.

 _Especially_ whatever creatures had killed her kin, and her mother, and left her alone.

“That looks bigger than the other ones,” Shirabe commented through barely concealed fear.

“She’s much older,” Maria replied, “I think we’re looking at the only known adult of the species, actually. Meaning she’s also probably tougher… and stronger.”

“We’ve got our w-work cut out for us, then,” Kirika stammered, clutching her pendant tight, “All we have to do is get her angry, dess?”

“Angry enough to follow,” Maria affirmed. “Let’s do this, Kirika, Shirabe.”

The younger girls nodded and focused on their Gears in their hands, let the songs they harbored flow through their hearts and minds.

_Zeios Igalima raizen tron_

Kirika’s hoodie and clothing faded, and were instantly replaced by the Symphogear’s black and green bodysuit, though it didn’t stop there. A Symphogear’s appearance was influenced by its wielder, so it was thanks to an unconscious wish that a pair of striped stockings also took shape. After that, the armor: first came her shoes, spiked at the heel, followed by the four matching dark pauldrons that protected her shoulders. Next, guards at her forearms, and a skirt for modesty’s sake. Completing the look was her headgear, in the rough shape of a witch’s hat and adorned with a bright yellow X.

“Dess!” she declared as Igalima’s Armed Gear took shape, a massive, curved scythe. Beside her, Maria and Shirabe completed their transformations as well, and the wave of phonic energy that emanated from the three of them was more than sufficient to catch Jishin-Mushi’s attention.

The massive Muto’s long, glowing eyes actually pulsed as she regarded them, perplexed by the energy radiating from their tiny forms. Between her seemingly being the last of her kind, humans that reminded her suspiciously of the Moth, and whatever those things were that she sensed lurking underground nearby, Jishin-Mushi found herself experiencing what might have been called information overload in a lesser organism.

Rather than deal with any of those things, Jishin-Mushi turned to the annoyingly bright Tokyo skyline, just as the kaiju sirens started up for the fourth time in almost as many weeks. Even with the relative darkness of the former Lydian area, the titan was clearly visible in the city, and the next sound that carried to the Muto’s ears were the screams of panic. She let out an annoyed, loud creak, and turned away with thundering footsteps. After her nap, she really didn’t feel like dealing with the humans.

“Ah!” Kirika cried, “Excuse me, Mrs. Giant Bug Monster! Could you walk the other way, maybe? Please?”

The monster evidently heard her, as her immense head turned to look at the three of them once again. Her jaw opened and released a series of low clicks and creaks, uncanny sounds for a living thing, before she took another step in the direction they didn’t want her going.

“The hard way, then,” Shirabe grumbled, rising onto the wheels of her Gear’s heels, “Be careful, Kiri-chan.”

Kirika adjusted her headgear and gulped as they prepared to engage the skyscraper-sized beast. “You too, Shirabe.”

Rei rolled her neck, listening for the slight cracks as she leaned back in the cockpit. The control yokes sat untouched as Unit-00 was wheeled to one of the launch catapults, for there was no reason to move any of the Eva’s limbs yet and waste any power.

She would be fighting one of _those_ creatures again. Although, those shadowy, eight-legged parasites that she’d killed six years prior were nothing compared to this monstrosity, already estimated by NERV to be nearly 110 meters tall. 

The big one in San Francisco had been only 90. The small height gap between it and her Eva was the only reason she had even had a chance, but this new one practically towered over Unit-00.

Rei wasn’t eager to spend another week in a hospital bed. She could think of more important things to do. Not many, but there were some. Mostly helping the Commander.

“Remember, Rei,” the Commander said into her earpiece, “You will have reinforcement in the form of Striker Eureka, a Mark V Jaeger that was recently transferred to Tokyo Shatterdome.”

“‘Mark V’, sir?” Rei questioned.

“Apparently,” Ritsuko supplied, hopping onto the line, “They’re Jaegers specifically designed to deal with proper kaiju instead of weak Breachers. This one began service two years ago in Australia. Being so much stronger, it naturally racked up a high kill count.”

“Will it be of proper help in this fight?” Rei asked as the Eva locked into place on the catapult.

“It will make a reliable back line,” Gendo conceded, “And our intelligence suggests that S.O.N.G. will be dispatching its three Symphogear wielders to the scene as well. You should have no issue driving Jishin-Mushi off if you can cooperate with them and the Jaeger.”

“You want me to cooperate with them, Commander?”

“Indeed,” Gendo said, and Rei could almost picture him lacing his fingers together, “While it isn’t ideal, working together with Japan’s other top kaiju defense organizations is something we’re just going to have to get used to. Learn how these people operate, Rei, because they’re not much like the JSDF that you’ve worked with in the past.”

“Understood,” Rei replied as she took hold of the control yokes. “Ready for launch.”

“Preparing for launch in three…” said a technician whose name Rei could never remember, “two… one… mission is go.”

What came next was the most uncomfortable part: the catapult rocketing the Eva up to the surface in mere seconds, up a gigantic vertical shaft that would spit her out at a strategic point within Tokyo. This one specifically led to Adachi, a short walk(on Unit-00’s legs, anyway)from the site of the battle. 

When the catapult came to a shuddering stop at Tokyo’s street level, Rei immediately and expertly took control of Unit-00, stepping free of the restraints with practiced ease and making her way toward the site of the battle. It was easy to see the daikaiju already, a towering behemoth standing out against the night sky, illuminated here and there by small explosions; were the Symphogear wielders there already?

Rei ignored the crunching of the asphalt beneath the Evangelion’s feet as she picked up the pace. NERV was well-funded, and property damage had ceased to be a true concern when battling kaiju decades prior. The thought process was: as long as it stops the monster from doing even _more_ damage, break whatever you need to. As such, the blue-haired girl wasn’t going to spare a thought for ruined streets. 

A popup appeared on her HUD, bearing the distinctive shape of a comms request. She answered it and felt Unit-00’s head turn automatically to receive the signal. The motion brought into view the unmistakable humanoid shape of a Jaeger, carried over by helicopters. She was surprised to find that the mech was a fair bit shorter than Unit-00, though it looked a lot bulkier and heavier. It was likely packing more power and weaponry than her, along with thicker armor.

“Evangelion Unit-00 pilot, this is Herc Hansen of the PPDC, do you copy?” asked a voice over their newly formed channel, in English, with a thick Australian accent. Rei was thankful in that moment for her English lessons.

“Pilot Rei Ayanami of NERV,” Rei responded, turning the Eva’s head back to the battle ahead, “I copy. Stay behind me. Your assistance is appreciated, but this kaiju is thirty-five meters taller than you. If you get too close, your mech will be destroyed.”

“Chuck Hansen here- d’you think we’re just gonna let you do all the work?” chimed in a second, equally accented voice, and Rei suddenly remembered that the Jaegers were a dual-pilot affair.

“You are welcome to help in any way that you can,” said Rei, monotonous as usual, “But I advocate caution, pilots. I have faced one of these creatures before.”

“So have we,” said Herc, “Or at least, our organization has. It didn’t go well, but we know what we’re up against.”

“I take it your… Striker Eureka, is it? I take it Striker Eureka is shielded against EMP attacks, then.”

“Right you are,” said the younger voice, “And that’s why we’re taking this bastard down.”

The helicopters released the Jaeger, allowing Striker to fall a short distance to the ground, and the massive machine immediately beelined for the fight, not quite as quickly as Rei was moving, but still impressively fast for such a massive machine.

They were both close, and Jishin-Mushi’s gargantuan proportions were even more apparent closer up. Rei could tell she was looking at her with those long, glowing orange eyes, even as her great limbs swatted and stomped at the tiny Symphogear wielders annoying her.

Indeed, the Muto was looking at her, because this pale blue giant was one of the strange creatures she had sensed beneath the ground. It felt _wrong_ , it smelled _wrong,_ and what was more, there was a second scent she knew well, lingering around its hands.

She knew what her own kind’s blood smelled like.

Jishin-Mushi bellowed furiously, rising onto her hind legs for a moment before breaking into an earth-shaking gallop, forcing the Symphogears around her- who Rei then recognized as belonging to the terrorist group- to scatter. The giant charged straight for Unit-00, and Rei knew she had no chance of stopping such a gigantic creature at that speed.

So she sidestepped, as she had six years ago, with the full intent of immediately drawing her Prog Knife to stab the beast, but even as Jishin-Mushi barreled past, one of her middle pair of legs lashed out sideways and slammed into Unit-00’s midsection. Rei felt the air- or rather, LCL- leave her own lungs, and she gasped as she fought to keep the Evangelion on its feet. The titanic Muto stopped running and let herself slide to a stop. She turned, roaring with rage, but before she could attack again, Striker Eureka’s fist slammed into the side of her head, snapping it to one side.

A low growl built in her throat as she straightened her neck, pushing against the fist, glaring at the robot with prehistoric hatred.

“Aw, shit,” Rei heard both pilots say at the same time.

“Get out of there,” she tried to say, but all that left her mouth was a strangled croak as she tried in vain to take in some oxygen-rich LCL. The only thing the girl could do was watch as Jishin-Mushi shoved Striker Eureka to the ground with her massive front limbs, then lifted one high above the Jaeger’s head, preparing to bring it down and smash the Conn Pod and its occupants to nothing.

Before she could, the tip of a ten-meter jet-powered sword stabbed into her leathery skin, sending hot blood raining a hundred meters to the ground. The Muto queen bellowed, more out of shock than pain, and backed away from the fallen Jaeger as S.O.N.G. arrived on the scene.

“Gang’s all here, dess,” Kirika observed nervously as she regrouped with Shirabe and Maria.

“ Finé!” Tsubasa called, “Disarm your Gears and come with us quietly.”

“You people again,” Shirabe grumbled, “Why can’t you just leave us be?”

“Why can’t you leave all those innocent people down in Tokyo be?” Chris challenged, “And don’t start with your little explanation from last time, cat-ears. I’ve been where you are, and it ain’t the right answer.”

“Cat-ears?” Maria repeated, absently fiddling with her hair.

 _What on Earth are they talking about now of all times?_ Rei wondered, finally straightening as she caught her breath. She eyed Jishin-Mushi, who glared back as the sword lodged in her skin faded into wisps of blue light.

“Rei!” cried a voice in her ear, one that she hadn’t heard yet that night.

“Captain Katsuragi?” she questioned, “What’s the situation?”

“A report just came in from the Mauna Kea Observatories. They’ve spotted something entering Earth’s atmosphere, and it seems like it’s headed your way.”

“It?” Rei asked, not quite understanding, “Captain Katsuragi, what is ‘it’?”

“They seem to think,” Ritsuko’s much calmer tones cut in, “That it’s a spacefaring kaiju, like Mechagodzilla in 1974.”

“Now, of all times?” Rei said, turning Unit-00’s head to the night sky.

Down below, the six Symphogear wielders seemed to get the message at the same time, and they, too, began to search the sky. Even Jishin-Mushi, thanks to her senses, could feel it, and mentally prepared for another combatant as the gash on her arm healed.

Last to get the message were the Hansens in Striker Eureka, but in moments, they too had craned their Jaeger’s neck to watch the stars for this alleged space monster.

For a tense minute, nothing happened.

Then, at length, there was sound: a high, keening noise, gradually getting louder, along with a rush of air as whatever-it-was tore the wind on its way to them.

And then all present stumbled as a colossal _something_ impacted in front of them, throwing up a great cloud of dust. Within the plume, an immense shadow loomed, rising to its full height.

It was taller than the Muto.

A gigantic birdlike foot tipped in massive, metallic talons stepped out of the cloud, slowly shifting the hidden kaiju’s weight as it found its land legs. Hisses and whirrs were audible even as its body remained invisible, but then the other leg stepped forward, and it came into view, all in hues of dark green and mustard yellow.

The massive legs led up to a thick, sturdy torso, with a row of spikes down its chest to its stomach. Mighty arms waved the dust aside, revealing titanic, scythelike claws where any normal creature would have hands. They glinted in the moonlight, just like the other bits of metal armor adorning the monster, but brighter than the reflection was the burning red of the creature’s single visor-like eye.

A long tail tipped in a metal trident whipped through the air, and with a horribly loud, grating screech, the spacefaring cyborg kaiju at last made himself known to the weaklings of Earth.

Only to be promptly tackled by 110 meters, 100,000 tons, and eight legs of extremely pissed off Earth monster.

Utterly unprepared, the alien toppled over with a shocked squawk, and all hell broke loose.

“What the hell is that?!” Chris yelled, jumping away from the two kaiju, “It’s gotta be the tallest one I’ve ever seen!”

“Definitely taller than Godzilla,” added Hibiki, “Why did it have to drop in now?”

“Anything that can go wrong, _will_ go wrong,” Tsubasa said sagely. 

Meanwhile, Finé’s wielders had a conversation of their own as they scattered away from the brawling titans.

“Does this mean Plan A is out the window, dess?”

“Is there even a Plan B?” Shirabe asked, turning to Maria.

Maria grimaced. “I assure you both that this was… not something Mom anticipated. This goes beyond our objective now, if that kaiju’s goals are anything like Mechagodzilla’s were.”

“What do you mean?” Kirika asked.

“I mean,” said Maria, “That we may need to work together with S.O.N.G. here, and drive that monster off. If it plans to kill Jishin-Mushi, it may have that in mind for all the kaiju.”

“And we can’t let that happen,” Shirabe surmised, “I don’t like the idea of helping them, though.”

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend, dess!” Kirika said with a cheerful smile that made Shirabe’s heart melt.

A short distance away, the cyborg shoved the Muto off itself, stabbing its scythe-arms into the ground to rise to its feet. The horrible mechanical screech sounded from its beak again as it stood, sharp tail defending it from further attack. Jishin-Mushi responded with a bellow of her own, the pitch nearly opposite the space monster’s roar, and lifted one front arm from the ground. The claw at the end suddenly lit up an angry orange, pulsing as energy gathered, and all Earthlings present felt their blood run cold, for this was the attack that had made dealing with 2014’s mated pair so difficult.

“Striker-” Rei yelled in a rare display of emotion, only to be cut off.

“Already on it!” cried the younger of the Jaeger’s pilots, “Insulating Conn Pod-”

The cyborg, on the other hand, had no idea what he was dealing with. His visor warned him of the energy buildup in the claw, but it could not quickly determine what that energy was to be used for. He experienced a dreadful and unfamiliar sense of foreboding, however, when something changed in the fully mechanical giant.

He screeched in alarm and rushed to lop off the glowing appendage, but it was too late.

Jishin-Mushi’s arm slammed down, and Tokyo went dark.

So did the space kaiju’s vision, along with several of his internal systems.

With a single evolutionary adaptation- meant to weaken the atomic breath of Godzilla’s species- the Muto had completely, if temporarily, crippled the giant cyborg.

Striker Eureka’s body systems began rebooting, thanks to the Conn Pod’s insulation allowing it to remain functional, while Unit-00 was back to full function in an instant. The Symphogears were completely unaffected.

The alien kaiju stumbled, screeching bloody murder, flailing what little of his limbs still worked. The gigantic scythes swung blindly, and with a trumpeting roar, Jishin-Mushi batted them away by striking the flats, before surging forward and clamping her jaw around the monster’s neck.

The cyborg screamed again, this time in pain, and fought to stay on his feet as the smaller monster pushed him back, using every ton of her immense weight to try and topple him. His systems scrambled to get online again as panic overtook his organics.

Finally, sight returned, and he immediately slashed at the Earth beast. His scythe slammed into her back and succeeded in breaking skin, but left little more than a superficial gash thanks to the monster’s almost shell-like body. She roared against his throat and pummeled him with her spare set of limbs, battering his torso.

At that moment, one key system rebooted, and the cyborg wasted no time activating it.

A shrill whine rent the air as the buzzsaw in his chest spun to life and tore into the Muto’s claw.

She bellowed in surprise and pain, but refused to release her bite on his throat even as he gradually started to push back, strength returning as his cybernetics restored funcitonality.

“A saw?” Shirabe said, surprised, as she skated toward the battling behemoths.

“Those scythe arms, too… maybe we just found the real Zababa, dess?” Kirika suggested, only half-joking.

“Let’s show it that we’re the real deal, Kiri-chan,” Shirabe replied with a small smile.

“So we’re doing _that_?” asked Kirika as she jumped up Jishin-Mushi’s leg and began a sprint over her back, occasionally dodging the cyborg’s immense claws.

“Yes, _that_ ,” Shirabe affirmed, rolling onto the daikaiju, transported by her Forbidden Moon Ring, “Maria, let us have this one.”

That was all the confirmation Kirika needed, so as the pair of them used Jishin-Mushi’s tilted head as a springboard(much to the daikaiju’s annoyance), she started to sing. What made her song special, though, was not simply that it was hers, but that it was also Shirabe’s. 

_Keikoku melody shinigami wo yobu zetsubō no yume Death Thirteen, rekuiemu yori eirina erejī kyōfu e yōkoso,_ Kirika started, voice much deeper than her speaking tones.

The boost to her phonic gain was immediate, and caught the attention of the cyborg’s scanners. The display of his vision marked her as a priority target, immediately discounting the taller one that remained on the ground, and one giant claw rose to swat her from the air as she drew closer to his head. The monster’s scythe, thirty meters of alien metal, clanged against Kirika’s Armed Gear, throwing up a shower of sparks. She just managed to turn the blade away, and with the space monster’s arm trapped in follow-through, the girl had enough of an opening to fling two curved blades at his eye, an attack she named “Kill Juliet” on the spot.

 _DNA wo kyō iku shiteku erā majiri no riarizumu, ningyō no yō ni ojigi suru dake monokuro no rōgoku,_ sounded Shirabe’s much higher notes as she joined the duet, their single combined song multiplying both girls’ phonic gain exponentially.

The “rabbit ears” of Shirabe’s Symphogear opened up and fired dozens of sawblades, spinning rapidly as they, too, targeted the monster’s single eye. If they could just blind the creature, maybe it would retreat to the void whence it came. But the attack, like Kirika’s, did little damage, and the cyborg’s eye began to glow brighter, redder, even as he started to gain the upper foot on the Muto queen despite her grip on his throat. Maria was forced to jump a safe distance away lest she be trampled, but S.O.N.G.’s wielders immediately fell upon her.

Before the twin blades of Zababa could react, small orbs of energy scattered from the visor in all directions, darting around erratically until they hit something or faded. Several burned into Jishin-Mushi’s skin, while Kirika and Shirabe just managed to protect themselves with their Armed Gears. Their phonic gain just wasn’t cutting it, so they moved to the next lines of their song; lines sung at the same time. 

_Ima sugu ni just saw now itamu mamonaku kirikizande agemashou_

_Dakara son'na… sekai wa… kirikizande agemashou_

From there on, their song was in sync, and that was reflected as their power increased yet further. Separately, Shul Shagana and Igalima were perhaps the weakest individual Symphogears, but when used together as one, the blades of Zababa were unmatched in power among the relics. The extraterrestrial giant’s systems registered this second, even greater increase, and quickly upped the tiny humans’ threat levels from “potential danger” to “imminent hazard”. 

_Shinjiatte tsunagaru shin no tsuyosa wo "yūki" to shinjiteku sō tsumugu te_

_Dareka wo mamoru tame ni mo shin no tsuyosa wo "yūki" to shinjiteku sō yume tsugumu Tales_

The monster’s long, sharp-tipped tail stabbed over his head like that of a scorpion, but it glanced off a giant, whirring sawblade that shielded Shirabe as she moved toward the alien’s back. She eyed the twin winglike sails, wondering if the beast would be grounded if she cut them to pieces. The girl resolved right then to test that theory, and produced a second huge saw as both extended further from her “rabbit ears” on sturdy struts. Kirika, on the other hand, still at the space monster’s front, zeroed in on one of his immense claws. 

_Get your own gimmick,_ she thought to herself, before launching a set of chains from her shoulder armor. The kaiju, whose head had swiveled 180 degrees to menace Shirabe even as he pushed Jishin-Mushi back, hardly noticed the chains wrap around his gigantic scythe. The chains attached to her own scythe even as it extended, becoming longer than the monster’s weapon was wide. It was time, Kirika had resolved, to test its craftsmanship against Igalima’s edge.

_Kitto kitto mada daijōbu, mada toberu_

_Wasurekaketa egao dakedo daijōbu, mada toberu yo_

Kirika’s scythe-turned-guillotine, in a move she filed away internally as “the Slasher: Jabberwock”, rushed toward the cyborg’s scythe at high speed, slamming into it and sinking deep into the metal. The girl almost pumped a fist in celebration, but caught herself at the unsettling sight of the metal around her scythe _moving_ , beginning to close around it. When his systems reported damage, the giant monster’s head turned all the way back around, and he shrieked in fury at the damage to his scythe even as, at his back, the other tiny one shredded his sails. Jishin-Mushi was struggling to stay on her feet as the beast continued walking forward, paying her little heed.

_Kagayaita kizuna dayo sā sora ni shirabe utaou!_

_Kagayaku kizuna dakishime shirabe utaou!_

The alien’s free scythe rose high and came down to smash Kirika into a pulp, but that was simply Rei’s opening at last. Unit-00 charged in and caught the blade, the edge slicing into its hands, but not through them. The blue mech nodded at Kirika, who got the hint and deployed rocket boosters from her pauldrons, aiming directly at her Armed Gear, still lodged in the monster’s blade. At the same time, Shirabe leapt off his shoulder and flung her remaining huge sawblade at the damaged appendage, aiming opposite to where Kirika had cut as their duet reached its climax.

Kirika’s rocket-powered kick shoved Igalima further in just as Shirabe’s sawblade tore into the reinforced alloy from the other side, and through their combined efforts, the alien’s blade was cleaved apart, and fell to the earth with an earsplitting metallic clank.

Screaming furiously, the cyborg slammed the flat of his remaining scythe into Unit-00’s face even as he kicked Jishin-Mushi in the chest. Free of assailants for the moment, the monster from space stepped back in a state of shock as his systems assessed his damage and decided that there was entirely too much of it. 

With a significant, glowing glare at the two tiny humans that had managed to do so much to him with so little, the biomechanical beast fired up his dark matter drives and lifted into the air. One last derisive screech rang out from his beak as he shot skyward, bound for Earth’s exosphere, and safety.

Kirika and Shirabe watched him go until the Super X-3 decloaked on the ground near them.

“Get in here before we get caught, you little gremlins!” Ver screeched from the opened bay. “You too, spear lady!”

Maria managed to shake the enemy Symphogears thanks to the cover of her cape, and in seconds she had covered the distance, scooped up the suddenly-exhausted children, and jumped into the back of the idling aircraft.

“Wait, damn it!” Chris yelled as the three S.O.N.G. wielders tried in vain to catch up.

“This fight is done,” Maria called back in response as the Super X-3’s bay began to close, “Thanks to our newest invader, you can consider our plans here thwarted. Congratulations.”

Indeed, Jishin-Mushi seemed to have no further interest in pursuing any of them. Instead, the titan was ripping apart the earth, digging a tunnel back underground. Her digging motions made it hard for the wielders to keep their footing as the Super X-3 lifted off.

“Be seeing you, Tsubasa,” Maria said, just before the bay door closed.

“Be- what?” Tsubasa muttered as she slowed to a stop. 

A good distance away, Unit-00 stood in front of Striker Eureka.

“Do not engage,” Rei ordered, “The kaiju is a non-aggressor for the moment. I’m aware that your line of work typically involves termination, but your Breachers are quite different from true kaiju. Angering Jishin-Mushi now will simply put you, your machine, and the civilians behind you at risk. Stand down, pilots Hansen.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Chuck grumbled, “She’s gotta point but I can’t believe I’m takin’ orders from a kid. How old’re you, anyway?”

“Fourteen,” Rei responded.

“Christ,” breathed Herc, “What the hell’re they doing over at NERV?”

“I am but a pilot,” stated Rei, “I am not privy to most of NERV’s inner workings. Thank you for your assistance today, Rangers.”

“What little we managed,” said Herc.

The Jaeger powered down, awaiting a helicopter retrieval, and Rei raised Unit-00’s hands. As she had come to expect, the damage dealt by the kaiju’s scythe was gone, aside from an easily repairable gash in the palm armor. That reminded Rei of something.

She turned to the severed metal appendage and was immediately disconcerted by what she saw, so she opened up a line to Headquarters.

“Dr. Akagi,” Rei said, “The severed blade of the alien kaiju appears to be moving.”

“Moving?” echoed Ritsuko, “Moving how?”

“It is not going anywhere, but it is… less still than I would expect metal to be,” she reported, reaching down to pick up the scythe. She balanced it on its razor tip and closely inspected the blunt, severed end.

It was writhing, moving almost like a fluid.

“Commander Ikari?”

The Commander was on the line in an instant. “What is it, Rei?”

“This is based only on what I have read of the theory, but I have reason to believe that whoever engineered this alien kaiju’s cybernetics installed nanometal technology. What should I do with it?”

“Unfortunately,” Ritsuko replied, “All kaiju remains, organic or artificial, fall under JSDF jurisdiction. You’ll have to leave it.”

“Understood. Perhaps they will be able to reverse-engineer and mass-produce nanometal from this sample of the alien.”

“I have my doubts,” Gendo confided, “And by the way, Rei, that alien received an official UN designation whilst you were battling it.”

Rei rolled her shoulder, still sore from her healed injuries. “What are they calling it, Commander?”

“Gigan.”

“Well,” Jonah said through barely-disguised mirth, “That was a disaster, wasn’t it?”

Maria glared at him. Kirika and Shirabe tried to, but both of them could barely keep their eyes open. “Why didn’t you come retrieve them as soon as that kaiju appeared?”

“Uh,” Ver chimed in unhelpfully, “‘That kaiju’ is apparently named Gigan. Uncreative, in my opinion, but it gets the point a-”

“Would you,” Jonah ground out, “Shut up. Please.”

Ver shut his mouth with a deliberate clicking of teeth.

“Why, you ask?” Jonah snarled, in a rare loss of composure, “Because for some godforsaken reason Nastassja insists on using those children in this plan, and I needed to be convinced that they can pull their own weight. It seems that they can.”

“You used a 120-meter space monster as a _test_ ,” Maria said, almost incredulous until she remembered what sort of a man Jonah was. She looked to her Mom, who shook her head silently.

“While they rest, you’ll have an opportunity to redeem yourself for your little hidden rescues,” Jonah said, “We’re charting a course to France. From what I hear, they’re considering disarming their defense systems. A little visit from the ORCA should make that decision final.”

“What’s in France?” Maria asked warily.

“Oh, just Kamacuras,” Ver said.

Within S.O.N.G.’s underwater mobile HQ, another debriefing had just completed.

“They’re going to France?”

“That’s right,” Fujitaka said without looking up from his monitor, “We intercepted a transmission before they cloaked. Kaiju anxiety is high over there, since they had one migrate there fairly recently.”

“Which one?” Hibiki asked, an unusual frown on her face.

“Kamacuras, allegedly,” Tomosato replied, and Tsubasa froze.

“What?” she hissed, whipping around. “F-France to… that one?”

“Tsubasa-” Genjuro started, but she cut him off.

“We’re following them.”

“Hey,” Chris said, “We’re still under the Japanese government. We can’t just cross into international waters willy-nilly, even if we do have good intentions.”

“I’ll go alone, then,” Tsubasa replied heatedly. “You and Tachibana can stay here and protect Japan in my absence.”

“Tsubasa, I know what that kaiju did to you, but…”

“This,” Tsubasa yelled, “Isn’t about ‘revenge’ or something so petty as that. I’ve _seen_ what that kaiju is capable of. I’m not letting them subject anyone else to what her and her larvae do. I’m taking my private jet, and you can’t stop me.”

“I am your commanding officer!” Genjuro retorted, jabbing a thumb into his broad chest, “And I am more than capable of stopping you.”

“And will you?” the guardian challenged, staring down her uncle.

Genjuro smiled. “No. But I am sending Ogawa with you.”

Tsubasa frowned. “That’s fine.”

“Can I come too, Tsubasa-san?” Hibiki asked, getting to her feet slowly, “I think I can help.”

“Tachibana,” Tsubasa began, but stopped when she turned to look at her friend.

Hibiki was wobbling, swaying on her feet, and sweat poured down her face.

“Tachibana?” Tsubasa said, “Are you feeling out of sorts?”

“Don’t think so,” the younger girl slurred, “Just feels like someone turned the heat on in here, is all.”

Chris placed a hand to her forehead. “What the- idiot, you’re practically on fire! What’s going on?”

“My arm’s numb,” Hibiki muttered, “Izzat normal?”

She promptly slumped forward into Chris, completely unconscious.

“Hey, wake up! This is no time for jokes, moron!”

“Something’s wrong with Tachibana-”

“Get med staff down here now!”

“Hibiki!”

One of the Parasites was moving again.

The _last_ Parasite, Godzilla corrected himself. He’d sensed none besides the large hibernating one, now awake, and if she was alone, she was no threat. Her kind would not overrun the world if she lacked a male to mate with.

The strange, gigantic one that had vanished into the sky was a concern, but he had little doubt that he was more than a match for that creature. Perhaps before his Change it would have defeated him, but not now.

As for the humans, well, they were still making their noises up above. Including those little armored ones that sounded like the Moth. Every time he thought back to that, a new spike of anger stabbed at his mind. His temper had been renowned among Earth’s kaiju since he was a pup, but these days it felt like fury was the only emotion he knew, and he couldn’t help but wonder how many lives would have to end before it faded.

He didn’t _enjoy_ the murder. He enjoyed being feared, and he enjoyed it when they fought back, but trampling the humans underfoot was just… necessary. His rampage in their city on his recent awakening had been, in hindsight, needlessly cruel. Especially to the Moth.

Even so, he could no longer afford patience when dealing with humankind. If he tried waiting for them to sort things out themselves, they would finish destroying the planet.

And he, Godzilla, child of their mistakes, refused to allow such a thing.

**CHAPTER X: Saws and Scythes**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I changed Edge Works' context. Based on the lyrics, I'd say it works just as well for them fighting together as against each other. To be clear, Jishin-Mushi is the THIRD Muto, the one seen in G: KOTM, NOT the Muto Prime from Godzilla: Aftershock. Muto Prime's design is ugly as hell, so she doesn't get to be important in this fic, and the much better looking third Muto, aka "Barb" according to Mike Dougherty, gets to steal her name. Gigan's design is meant to be a mixture of his Showa and Millennium looks, but with more birdlike feet because I'm taking the "space chicken" jokes even further.  
> In other news, this fic is almost entirely planned out, and it's looking like 64 chapters currently, subject to potentially getting longer. Considering that the word counts for chapters will probably gradually keep increasing, we're looking at... a really long fic. I'm committed.  
> Comments are appreciated as usual, and remember to stay safe and healthy.


	11. CHAPTER XI: We Are Too Young And Fearless

_The abnormalities with this creature just keep stacking up the longer we study it, and we still know almost nothing about it compared to terrestrial kaiju. And there’s a very good reason why, besides it being stuck deep below us in ancient Martian permafrost. Somehow, despite being either dormant or dead, the thing is emitting an electromagnetic field. Too weak to have adverse effects on any of the personnel(other than strange dreams), but just strong enough to mess with our instruments. It’s why we still don’t have an accurate look at the thing besides a big biological blob on the scanners. Said blob is still disconcertingly huge, of course, but it’d be nice if we knew what sort of creature it is. Weirdly enough, sometimes the field fluctuates, suddenly gaining strength, and we lose power for a second. Happened during a data backup once, and we lost three hours of work._

_Overall, I think we have it the worst out of every human on this planet. Some of them get to relax in the big tent and try to grow plants in Mars’s soil, some get to investigate its natural geology, and some are checking out the remains of the civilization that used to exist here. God, that feels insane to say. Martian civilization. There used to be intelligent life here, and if what I’ve heard from the xenoarchaeology team is true, it only vanished relatively recently. That goes against everything we thought we knew about Mars._

_It makes me wonder if this thing in the ice was like a Godzilla to them, but unlike us, the Martians lost the fight._

**Transcript of a log entry from a member of the Martian xenokaijuology team of the Ares I mission, who wishes to remain anonymous, dated February 2020.**

  
  


**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


Haruo used to live alone. He had never particularly enjoyed it, but he was starting to forget what it felt like to have privacy,

He knew Yuko meant well, but did she really have to move in with him while he was off active duty? It felt like having a nagging mother, but she was a year younger than him, so it was worse.

They’d been in the middle of a petty argument over something stupid- toothbrushes- when three sharp knocks rang out at the door. Haruo, essentially recovered from his injuries, went to go get it.

He wasn’t sure who he’d been expecting, but it certainly hadn’t been _the_ Miki Saegusa, wearing a formal suit and sunglasses. She looked for all the world like a stereotypical spy from the movies, and Haruo was floored.

“Who is it?” Yuko asked, walking up behind him.

_Hello_ , said a voice in their heads, and Haruo and Yuko both jumped, _My name is Miki Saegusa. I take it you’ve heard of me._

“Wh-wh-who hasn’t?” Yuko stammered, “You’re _the_ -”

_I’d appreciate it if you could lower the volume somewhat. Try not to make a scene, you know?_

Yuko shut her mouth with a bashful smile. “Would you, um… like to come in? I can prepare some tea.”

“Wait a moment, Yuko,” Haruo said, placing his hand on her head and turning her back around before she could escape to the kitchen, “Why are you here, Saegusa-san?”

Miki sighed, then spoke aloud for the first time. “Getting straight to the point, aren’t you? If you’re in such a rush, I’ll just come out and say it.”

Then, back in the pair’s heads, _I have a proposition for the two of you. I can tell you about it on the way._

“‘On the way’? Look, we’re not going anywhere until you give us more information.”

“Also,” Yuko added, “Is telepathy supposed to have, like… background static?”

Miki’s eyebrows lifted, then she took off her sunglasses and rubbed at her eyes. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, that’s just Godzilla back there. Thanks for the reminder, though.”

As Haruo and Yuko stared at her with varying degrees of concern, the psychic woman pulled a vial of pills from her suit pocket and popped three of them into her mouth without so much as a sip of water.

“Can’t get the big guy out of my head, so I get to have migraines pretty much constantly. But enough about that, let’s get going.”

“Wait, you bridged your mind with Godzilla’s?”

“Yeah, I wouldn't recommend it. Anything you two need before we go?”

Haruo folded his arms, thankful that he was at the very least taller than the most powerful woman in the world. “What makes you think we’re just gonna go with you?”

Miki sighed.

_Look, to be honest, I’m not asking. This is a formality. You two_ need _to come with me. This matter is too important. You’re getting in that car._

“This is a bit… fishy, no?” Yuko asked, glancing back and forth between Haruo and Miki.

Miki nodded. “Sure is. Pretty much everything I’m here to do is… let’s say ‘extralegal’. You have my word that my intentions are good, though.”

Haruo scoffed. “If it’s that important, couldn’t you just knock us out and take us?”

“Do I look American to you?” Miki asked, affronted, “I prefer not to do things by brute force. Depriving you two of free thought isn’t something I even considered. I will, however, make you get in the car.”

“How is that _not_ depriving us of free thought?” Yuko cried, hugging herself as if to hold her body still.

Miki tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, and Haruo suddenly found himself a step closer to the doorway.

“Huh?” 

“I only need to take over your motor control. This way, I can move you where you need to go while keeping you completely aware and alert,” Miki explained.

“Why do you know how to do this?” Yuko asked, on the verge of hysterics as her legs moved on their own, “This is just too weird!”

“I’d gotten so good at manipulating people _without_ my powers that I learned how to do it _with_ them out of sheer boredom. Lo and behold, it’s coming in handy.” Miki replied, as nonchalant as if she were discussing the weather.

“I-I’ll scream!” warned Yuko.

Miki shrugged. “Go ahead, if it makes you feel better. I’ve already blocked all your neighbors’ perception of this conversation.”

“Then why all the telepathy secrecy?” Haruo challenged.

“No telling if you’re bugged,” Miki said with a shrug. “Shall we get going?”

“Ohh, I hate this,” Yuko grumbled as she and Haruo began to walk in earnest, “I hate this, I hate this, this is so weird.”

“Really,” Miki said, “Enough with the drama. You’ll be free to leave once you’ve heard me out.”

“This is still a kidnapping, Saegusa-san,” Haruo pointed out.

_Maybe I_ should _shut them up,_ Miki thought, but only to herself.

When the pair of them had settled into the backseats of Miki’s surprisingly average car, she let them use their own limbs again. Evidently both were curious about her proposition, struck by the sheer oddity of the situation, because neither of them made any move to escape, though both were clearly nervous.

“You’ll be pleased to know that that was the hard part,” Miki said cheerfully as she started the car, “Now that you’re in here, we can talk freely.”

“Oh, you had best start talking,” Yuko said through clenched teeth, prompting raised eyebrows on Haruo’s part.

“I’ll be blunt, then. Haruo Sakaki, Yuko Tani, you two are drift-compatible.”

“We’re what?” Haruo asked.

“Drift-compatible?” Yuko echoed, “Doesn’t that mean we have some kind of… mental bond?”

“Correct,” Miki answered, making a right turn, “I discovered it while you were at the hospital. I was being treated there as well, and during one of my typical sweeps of nearby minds, I discovered the link between the two of you. It’s a rare gift.”

“I see,” mused Haruo, “But why is it so special that you needed to essentially kidnap us?”

“Sakaki-san,” Miki said, “You know firsthand that the world is changing. You came face to face with that change’s driving force and survived.”

“You mean _him_ ,” Haruo surmised, frown deepening. “Yeah, I did.”

“Then you also know that Mechagodzilla II was pathetically weak compared to him. He emerged after sixty-six years, evolved into a newer, vastly stronger form. The only way to keep up is to evolve our defenses. That’s what the PPDC’s Jaeger Program has been doing. New Mark V or even Mark VI Jaegers, as well as powerful retrofits to Mark IIIs and IVs. All meant to make them more prepared to fight true kaiju.”

“Hold on,” Yuko reentered the conversation, “Are you trying to get us to be Jaeger pilots?”

“Precisely,” said Miki. 

Haruo and Yuko found themselves shell-shocked, devoid of any kind of meaningful response, and the rest of the trip passed in near-silence.

At length, they rolled up to a restricted drawbridge. After a quick ID check on Miki’s part, it was lowered, and the car continued on, out over the waters of Sagami Bay, toward the artificial island that served as the Tokyo Shatterdome, three kilometers offshore.

“This doesn’t feel real,” Yuko whispered.

“Wait until you get a look at the Mark VI,” Miki said cheerfully, having heard her thought, “If you join up, you’ll be piloting it.”

“They’re willing to trust rookies with a machine that expensive?” Haruo snorted, “They must be pretty damn desperate.”

“On the contrary,” Miki replied, “Combat experience is all that really matters as far as piloting a Jaeger goes. With high compatibility- the kind you two have- controlling one is like moving your own body. And you, Sakaki-san, have quite a bit of experience.”

“Yuko doesn’t,” Haruo reminded her. “Not in piloting a mech, anyway.”

“And that,” declared Miki, throwing her arms wide as she telekinetically turned the steering wheel, “Is the beauty of the Drift. Your minds will be one, so she’ll have access to the same instincts and decision-making as you in a fraction of the time.”

“D-doesn’t that seem a little convenient?” Yuko asked.

Miki nodded, “It sure is, Tani-san. At any rate, we’re here.”

The Shatterdome’s main entrance gave away little of what could be going on inside. It was simply a sheer concrete wall, wholly plain. The area around it, however, was like a human beehive, a hubbub of movement and activity. Crates carted this way and that, people following them and talking loudly into phones and earpieces. It reminded Haruo of the JSDF, but only when there was some kind of situation. Was the PPDC simply in perpetual motion?

As they exited the car, Miki tossed the keys at the closest person she saw, and to Haruo and Yuko’s continued surprise, the woman caught them easily and _saluted_ her.

“I wasn’t aware you were actually _part_ of the PPDC,” Yuko called over the loudness of their immediate area.

“I’m not,” said Miki with a grin, “But for everything I’ve done for them, I might as well be. They sure treat me like it.”

“That’s right,” Yuko breathed, bringing her fist down on her palm, “They engineered the Drift based on how your telepathy works, didn’t they?”

“You know your stuff,” commented Miki as the three of them crossed the threshold into the Shatterdome’s interior, “Unlike your friend there.”

Haruo shrugged as he looked around the cavernous space, “I only ever really read up on things that directly concerned me. Sue me.”

“It’s true,” Yuko added mischeivously, “He knew all about MG-II. Probably could’ve operated it in his sleep.”

He hid it well, but Miki felt the flash of anguish that ran through his mind at the mention of the destroyed machine. She probed no further, but the grief and pain that emanated from him was so strong that she almost expected Yuko to feel it. It was almost impressive how the only indications of these feelings that he gave were a slight furrowing of the brow, an almost imperceptible clenching of teeth.

“Stay close to me,” Miki warned as they walked. “It’s not as bad as Hong Kong, but getting lost in here wouldn’t be difficult. I’ll take you to the Marshal’s office.”

“You really can just go anywhere you want, huh,” Haruo grumbled, “I’m shocked that I never saw you waltz into MG-II’s hangar.”

“Just some of the perks of being, well, me,” smiled the psychic. “Took me a bit to figure it out, but this brain of mine has turned into leverage with every kaiju response organization on the Pacific Rim.”

“You terrify me,” Yuko said.

Miki laughed good-naturedly. “I know, Tani-san.”

Haruo softly elbowed Yuko. “Hear that? She _knows_.”

Yuko shuddered as the group slowed to a stop in front of a doorway, one that lacked a door. 

“This is the Marshal’s office?” Haruo blinked.

“Not what you expected, I see,” explained Miki, “The Jaeger Program was never much for grandiosity.”

“Minimalists?” Yuko wondered.

“Not by choice,” Miki chuckled, “Even with a whole lot of countries chipping in, funds are a bit tight for the PPDC. They can’t afford to make everything pretty.”

“Are you lot just going to stand there gossiping,” called a gruff voice within the office, “Or are you going to enter?”

“In you go,” Miki urged, “You’re the stars of this show, I was just your way in the door.”

“Is it really okay for us to go in alone?” Yuko asked, more than a little nervous.

Miki patted her on the head, “No need to worry about introductions, I’ve already told Marshal Aso about you both. Just be honest and be yourselves.”

As she and Haruo entered the bare entryway, Yuko grumbled to herself, “Why do people keep putting their hands on my head?”

“It’s the way you do your hair,” Haruo answered. “The shape just instinctively makes people want to hold your head.”

“When did you grow a sense of humor, Haruo?”

“I’m being serious.”

The two of them sat in a pair of simple chairs. Facing them, behind a plain wooden desk, was a portly, slightly graying Japanese man. The desk bore no decoration besides a small nameplate that read “Marshal Takaki Aso”.

“Welcome to Tokyo Shatterdome,” began Aso, “I hope the trip wasn’t too eventful.”

“The trip itself wasn’t, but is there a reason you had Miki goddamn Saegusa kidnap us?” Haruo said, folding his arms.

“You claim that she kidnapped you, and yet you’ve made no attempt to leave yet.”

“How do we know she isn’t in our heads right now?” challenged Yuko, “Making us not want to leave?”

“That,” Aso said with a chuckle, “Is not how her mind-controlling abilities work. Were she influencing your conscious thoughts, your will would be pushed to the back of your own mind.”

Haruo huffed. “She told us why we’re here. Something about drift compatibility, and a need for pilots.”

“That’s correct. Mass-producing Jaegers, while expensive, is not the hardest part. Finding good pilots is. We’ve had to make do with who we can find for seven years. Any two people can drift, but higher compatibility improves their fighting capabilities. We’re not going to put a couple of barely-compatible people in charge of a Mark VI.”

“So in essence, we’re just here because we were the first ones you found.”

“No need to make us sound so heartless, Sergeant Tani,” Aso laughed. “You’re not weapons, you’re people. We just had to make certain you would hear us out.”

“By kidnapping us.”

“Do you know how many compatible pairs have turned us down at their doorsteps because they were unwilling to even consider the career? We’ve lost potentially excellent pilots that way. Bringing you here was a way to make sure you could learn an adequate amount of information to make an educated decision.”

“I get where you’re coming from,” Haruo conceded with a wave of his hand, “But that doesn’t really change that Miki Saegusa kidnapped us to bring us here.”

“You can take that up with her,” Aso replied, “I just told her to bring you, I didn’t tell her how. She has a mischievous streak like that.”

Marshal Aso stood then, his chair scraping the floor, and beckoned they do the same. “If you’d follow me, I would like to show you the Mark VI Jaeger that we’re working on, the one that the two of you will pilot if you choose to join us.”

“What, are we backtracking?” Yuko asked.

“No, the construction facilities are on the other side of this Shatterdome. Getting there should not be much of a problem.”

“Great,” Yuko said, “I feel claustrophobic in these halls.”

Aso laughed again. “You’ll love the launch bay, then. Makes your MG-II hangar look like a closet.”

“That big?”

“That big. We launch six different Jaegers here, and we need room and then some to store them.”

The walk to the construction hangar passed in a blur, likely due to the samey look of the Shatterdome’s interior, but Haruo and Yuko could somehow tell when their destination was approaching. The halls, though still similar in appearance, started to widen.

When they entered, they were taken aback.

If this was just where construction and maintenance were done, how massive was the launch bay?

The space could only be described as cavernous. They’d entered at the approximate shoulder height of the closest Jaeger, and even then the ceiling rose another several dozen meters, easily housing the massive machine. It was _hot_ , too, despite the immense space and the gigantic fans placed around the walls at intervals.

“Wow,” Yuko said, and Haruo found himself agreeing.

“This one here,” Aso began, gesturing to the nearby, seemingly damaged Jaeger, “Is Echo Saber, Mark IV. You might remember that she was badly damaged by Ebirah about a week ago.”

“Vaguely,” replied Haruo, watching the human ants that were the repair crew scuttling over the metal form.

“But I’m certain you would rather see yours, Mark VI and all. You already can, of course, but how about a closer look?”

As Haruo glanced across the chamber at the great gray behemoth that must have been theirs, he wondered, “What determines their ‘Mark’?”

“Haruo,” Yuko chided before Aso could answer, “This is easy stuff. It’s by commission date. Mark Is were 2013, Mark IIs were 2014 to 2015, Mark IIIs were 2016, Mark IVs were 2017, and Mark Vs were 2018 to 2019. Now Mark VIs are 2020.”

“How would I know that?” grumbled Haruo, secretly a bit embarrassed.

“Here we are,” Marshal Aso said, “The first, an AI-piloted one designated Jet Jaguar, has completed construction in South America, so this is the second Mark VI Jaeger. Unnamed, as of now. You’ll get to choose its name, should you join up.”

“Oh, do we? Count me in then,” Haruo quipped, then turned serious again, “Is there a reason it’s such a dull color compared to the other one?”

“The last layer of armor hasn’t been installed yet. When it’s finished, it’s going to have the same reflective, heat-resistant material that previous anti-kaiju mecha used. It’s expensive material, so this will be the first Jaeger to be covered in it.”

“And why isn’t that armor installed?” Yuko asked, “My only experience is watching MG-II maintenance, but this seems about complete.”

“The main body is,” said Aso, “But final systems checks on the wings aren’t complete.”

“Oh, yeah. That makes sense,” Yuko said, nodding, before what the Marshal had said sank in. “Wait, did you just say _wings_?!”

“I did. They were a challenge to design, but light alloys as well as advanced propulsion systems should, in theory, enable flight up to a maximum speed of Mach Three.”

“Mach Th- Haruo.”

Haruo turned to his junior, immediately noticing a fire in her eyes.

“We _have_ to take this job.” intoned Yuko.

“You haven’t been where I have, Yuko,” Haruo warned her, “Fighting kaiju from the ground is very different from being in the cockpit of a mech. Don’t go jumping at this job just because you might get to fly around in a Jaeger.”

“For your information, _senpai_ ,” Yuko began, using his honorific from their school days as a form of emphasis, “I had made up my mind as soon as Miki-san told us we were drift-compatible. Our Jaeger having wings is the cherry on top.”

“This isn’t the kind of decision you make just like that, _Sergeant_ ,” Haruo retorted with her rank, “This is life-changing, or even life-ending. I’m lucky I got out of MG-II’s cockpit, so you can imagine that I’m a little leery about getting back into a mech so soon.”

“You say that,” Yuko challenged, “But you’ve already made up your mind.”

Haruo’s face contorted, then he let out a defeated sigh. “Nothing gets past you.”

“You want to prove that that loss to Godzilla wasn’t your fault. What better way to reaffirm that you’re a kickass pilot than by kicking ass?”

“Hmph,” Haruo said, ruffling her hair some more just to annoy her, “I guess so. And maybe, one of these days, I’ll get to avenge the guys.”

Marshal Aso nodded. “At the height of the First Age, revenge was a common motivator for recruitments to anti-kaiju militias. I get the feeling that number is going to rise again soon. I won’t oppose it, but you’ll have to prioritize your duties first.”

“I would say I’m well-disciplined enough,” Haruo responded, eyes hard as Yuko reached up to ruffle his own dark hair in retaliation.

“May I assume, then,” started Aso with an air of finality, “That you’re both on board?”

Yuko stopped ruffling Haruo’s hair to meet his eyes, then the both of them looked at the Shatterdome Marshal. At the exact same time, clearly and concisely, came their reply.

“Yes, sir!”

Awareness returned to Hibiki slowly. First came sight, but there wasn’t much to see besides the white ceiling of S.O.N.G. HQ’s medical ward. The rest of her senses followed shortly after, and that was how she became aware of the warm weight pressing down on her legs. It took a surprising amount of effort to raise her head from the pillow and look, but look Hibiki did. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was expecting, but her half-awake curiosity was overpowering.

And there was Miku, bent over in a chair at her bedside, sound asleep with her head resting on Hibiki’s thighs.

Her initial reaction was an internal _aww_ , but her second was sudden worry as she realized that if Miku were here, whatever had landed Hibiki in the infirmary had to be serious.

“Miku,” she whispered. “Mikuuuu.” No response.

So Hibiki reluctantly bent her knee, lifting her thigh off the bed and causing Miku’s head to slide into her lap. That woke her up quickly, and the dark-haired girl took their compromising position in stride as she sat up straight.

“Chris!” she called, “She’s awake!”

The door slid open then, and in rushed Chris, concern all over her face.

“Don’t you scare me like that again, you idiot,” said the Ichaival wielder, sitting opposite Miku on the other side of Hibiki’s bed.

“What happened?” Hibiki asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Chris said you passed out on the bridge, and you were burning up with a fever.”

“I’m also pretty sure you had a minor heart attack,” Chris added, “It stopped beating for a good ten seconds.”

“Me?!” Hibiki exclaimed, shocked. She didn’t _feel_ like she had just had a heart attack. “What could’ve caused that?”

Chris and Miku exchanged significant glances. “I’ll let the old man tell you.”

That didn’t soothe Hibiki’s nerves one bit, though she hid it aptly with a smile.

_It’s okay, everything’s fine,_ she repeated to herself.

After a few minutes of tense silence, Genjuro entered the room- with a folder under his arm. Uh oh.

“Shishou,” Hibiki cried, “What happened to me? Why is everyone acting like I’ve died?”

Miku flinched.

“There’s…” Genjuro began, frowning deeply, “No easy way to break this to you, Hibiki-kun. Recall that you’re unique among Symphogear wielders, in that your relic fragment rests within you.”

“Uh-huh,” Hibiki replied.

“Well, here’s the problem. Every time you equip your Gear, it stems from the Gungnir that physically sits within your chest. It’s corrupting you… fusing with you. Yesterday’s skirmish with Gigan and Finé was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and the fusion affected your circulatory system.”

“And… what does that mean?” Hibiki asked, feeling internal dread sprout inside her. 

Genjuro sighed. “If you continue to equip Gungnir so often, without months of rest in between uses, the fusion will progress faster than your body can counteract it… and you will die.”

“I’ll… die? There’s gotta be… some kind of mistake. Why would this power be killing me? It’s supposed to help me help people!”

“The x-rays don’t lie, Hibiki,” Miku said quietly, drawing one from Genjuro’s folder. Sprouting from Hibiki’s heart was a crystalline lattice, following the paths of veins and arteries in an unsettling starburst. Hibiki instinctively touched her scar, and indeed noted a hard feeling beneath her skin.

“So what does this mean? What’s going to happen to me?”

“If you don’t use your Symphogear, it gives your body more time to heal. So at the very least, avoid combat unless it’s absolutely, life-preservingly necessary. Ideally, however…” Genjuro trailed off.

“You shouldn’t do it at all,” Chris snapped. “Don’t fight anymore, idiot.”

“You know I can’t do that!”

“Are you trying to die?” Chris challenged, “You can’t help _anybody_ if you get yourself killed. I know that it’s what you love doing, but I won’t lose you by letting you throw your life away.”

Hibiki found that she had no reply, so she tried changing the subject. “Where’s Tsubasa-san, shishou?”

“Already on her way to Paris,” he replied, “But she concurs. She doesn’t want you fighting anymore.”

“Hibiki,” Miku began, taking her hand, “Please. You have to take care of yourself instead of others sometimes.”

“I’ve instructed Miku-kun to keep a close eye on you,” Genjuro warned. “She’ll do her best to stop you if you attempt anything reckless. And she _will_ let us know, regardless. If you can’t stop yourself from fighting, we’ll detain you for your own safety.”

“Detain?!”

“We’re serious about this, dummy,” Chris emphasized, leaning forward, “You were there for me when I was at my lowest, and you pulled me out, gave me a home. Now let me- let us- do the same for you.”

“That’s right, Hibiki-kun,” nodded Genjuro, “I never said this is permanent. We’re already analyzing the material that your fusion produced, and trying to figure out a safe removal procedure.”

“Wait, material?”

“They found some stuff growing out of your scar,” Chris explained. “Seems like it’s made of the same thing as our Gears.”

Hibiki frowned. “Okay, everyone. I promise I’ll try my best to stay out of fights.”

Chris huffed. “You had better. If you die on me, I’ll kill you.”

“While I don’t agree with the delivery,” Miku added, adjusting her ribbon a bit, “I agree with the sentiment. You’re important to all of us, Hibiki. So stay with us, okay?

Hibiki glanced around the room at the three of them. “As weird as it might sound, I’m actually more worried about Tsubasa-san right now.”

MONARCH was not a military organization. Its priority was research, as well as containment. Any and all weapons they had were meant to discourage a kaiju from waking or leaving an area, nothing more. They lent help to kaiju defense organizations, of course, as the information they held was invaluable to any group dedicated to fighting the beasts.

That said, visits from the JSDF still unsettled Dr. Serizawa. It was easily the most “aggressive” anti-kaiju force. That was understandable, of course, as Japan had been hit by more kaiju attacks in its time than any other country, but MONARCH didn’t like the idea of trying to kill the monsters.

So when a pair of uniformed men walked into Ishiro’s office, he was in fact unnerved.

“Can I help you?” he asked, hiding his discomfort behind a veneer of politeness.

“You can. May we sit?”

“Please.”

“I’ll get straight to the point, then,” said the shorter man, “Mechagodzilla II is in ruins. Considering its recent performance, repairing it would be a very expensive fool’s errand.”

Serizawa blinked. “Why come here, then?”

The taller one spoke up next, “In 2014, after the Muto incident when you lot declassified documents relating to Janjira and that mine in the Philippines, one of our engineers drafted up a quick little design. We’ve come to realize that it may have some promise.”

He handed Ishiro a very plain folder, with just two characters inscribed on the front.

“Ki ryu… Machine Dragon?”

Serizawa opened the folder, and the very first page was cause for further alarm.

“This is… the bones?”

“We believe,” said the short officer, “That using those bones you found as the mech’s skeleton will not only heighten durability, but help us to design a _true_ Mechagodzilla. Not a facsimile weapon, but a literal robotic kaiju.”

“What do you mean?”

“Anatomical study may allow us to figure out how the living creature’s muscles and bones interacted, and reproduce them artificially.”

“So,” Serizawa said, making sure he had everything straight, “You want me to hand over Dagon’s bones in order to construct a _third_ Mechagodzilla around them.”

“‘Dagon’? You have a name for it?”

“Ever hear of Phoenicia? A civilization from our own recorded history. A group of them somehow became lost at sea and wound up in the South Pacific. There, they encountered this creature while it still lived, and believed it to be the god Dagon. It seems they even witnessed the battle that killed it.”

“Interesting,” said the tall JSDF officer, “Then there were active kaiju a relatively short time ago. And of Godzilla’s kind, no less.”

“Those bones,” said Serizawa, “Are worth more than a small country. It’s no simple matter to just hand them over, not to mention into a situation where they’re likely to be damaged.”

“They’re kaiju bones, no? They’ll heal even if Kiryu takes a beating.”

“That’s true,” Serizawa conceded.

“In that folder, you’ll find all the paperwork necessary for the bones to change from MONARCH’s hands to the JSDF’s. We implore you to consider our proposition, Director Serizawa.”

With that said, the pair left, almost as quickly as they’d arrived. Ishiro had never gotten their names.

He flipped through the documents, going into more detail on the plans for MG-III, or rather, Kiryu. They showed promise. The bones suggested a creature very similar to Godzilla anatomically, so a metal reproduction of it would very likely be capable of matching him in strength, unlike MG-II. It would be armed to the teeth with anti-kaiju artillery and Masers, as well as something much more experimental built into its chest, something Ishiro had only read about: an Absolute Zero Cannon.

MONARCH was about research. That was what they did. They helped anti-kaiju operations where they were needed, but mostly wanted to study the creatures. That was what their containment tech was for, what the Monster Islands were for. Surrendering a biological sample like Dagon’s bones to be turned into a weapon just didn’t sit right with Serizawa. That was important kaiju history, debatably even still alive, if no longer sapient. 

Yet, at the same time, they were vulnerable. Only the thin line of Mark V and soon VI Jaegers, the Evangelions, and the Symphogears stood as effective barriers between the monsters and millions of innocents. Even then, their effectiveness would probably drop with time, as more kaiju became active.

Maybe Kiryu was a necessity. A Godzilla on their side.

Serizawa reached for his pen. He’d have to discuss this with the rest of MONARCH’s top brass, but he could at least get started on all this paperwork.

The girls looked out at the sea, at the sunset. They did this often, as both of them loved the beauty of the sight. Infant Island was a place full of such sights, but something about the simple sunset, the same one that the outside world got to see, was comforting to them.

And comfort was what they needed as a chill, some premonition of a dark future, sent shivers through their bodies.

“And again,” said one to the other, “A human disrupts nature’s balance.”

“The Goddess’s teachings have not spread far enough, wide enough. Perhaps we should make an effort to assist.”

“Leave the island?”

“Perhaps. At the very least, reach out with our minds.”

“If only we could project ourselves at full size.”

“It matters not. Our mental projections’ small size is what creates the significance of their name for us: Shobijin. Little beauties.”

“Are we worthy of such a title, like our predecessors?”

“If we are not yet, we simply must work to earn the name, Miana.”

“...yes. We will make our worth, Maina."

**CHAPTER XI: We Are Too Young And Fearless**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another slow setup chapter, I'm afraid. I wonder if any of you saw Haruo and Yuko's future position coming? And, surprise, the Shobijin are the twins from the Anime trilogy! Naturally, this means that the Infant Islanders are all Houtua, who were one of my favorite parts of those movies. Their overall design aesthetic and origin is fascinating to me, so Miana and Maina get to have an important role here. Stop fighting people, Hibiki.  
> Next week: Tsubasa gets some coffee in the city of love. This quickly proves to be a bad idea, even if her date, a certain fellow idol, is quite the looker.  
> Thanks for reading and commenting. Stay safe and stay healthy out there, these are tumultuous times.


	12. CHAPTER XII: Guardians

_ It is a simple fact that the country to suffer most during the Age of Monsters was Japan. In a similar vein, one country is often seen as responsible for the whole thing: the United States of America. Consensus states that their Pacific nuclear testing awoke Godzilla, who kickstarted the chain reaction that led to the rest of the kaiju waking up. As such, since the end of the Age in 1995, the USA has been paying reparations to the countries most heavily damaged by kaiju attacks. In addition, the cause-and-effect of the Age of Monsters has resulted in an overall global distaste for nuclear weapons, with other superpowers such as Russia and China also heavily reducing their arsenals. Some even go as far as to say that the existence of kaiju stopped World War 3.  _

**From a student thesis at the Serizawa Institute of Technology in Japan.**

  
  


**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


Mothra was a very old creature. By technicality, she actually wasn’t, as her current incarnation had been alive for mere decades, but thanks to the evolutionary advancement of genetic memory, she retained all recollection of her many past lives. In human numbers, she was close to 250 million years old, from a time when the dinosaurs had barely begun to appear. Many of the kaiju had first appeared around that time, though Mothra’s race was the only one with such unorthodox methods of longevity. The rest simply continued on, their bodies adapted to remove senesence as a factor. Like her oldest friend, for example. He was several million years older than her, though it seemed he had undergone a strange death and rebirth of his own. This was likely owed, Mothra suspected, to the newer, different nuclear power that she sensed coursing through his body. It had changed him from a rather ordinary individual to one of the mightiest creatures on the planet.

But his anger concerned her. He had always been short-tempered, but as far as humans were concerned he seemed to be almost predisposed to anger at them. They had disappointed him, wounded him physically and mentally in ways that, despite his regeneration, might never heal.

A lot of things had concerned Mothra lately, in fact. She had taken it upon herself to raise humanity when they first displayed sentience, and initially she had believed things were going smoothly.

Then came the wars, and the wedge driven between human beings and monsters.

Mothra had lamented her fellows’ responses then, and she lamented them now. The humans were a young, weak species. It was inevitable that they would stumble on their way into becoming dominant species, much as the kaiju themselves had. After that, though, few remained to guide them, with Mothra chief among them.

And she had tried; she had tried with every fiber of her being, but she could not be everywhere at once. She had lent her power to mighty weapons, divine constructs strong enough to fight against her own kind in the probable event of some kind of extermination campaign. The first test came in the form of one of The Enemy’s regular visits, and the first of the weapons, a lance, had proven itself effective and driven off their foe. Mothra saw this as promising, though she still limited the amount of weapons she would create.

But then even those symbols of their covenant were lost to time. Humankind  _ regressed _ , reverting to primitive technology, dirty and polluting kinds. Their aptitude for war only grew, and they waged it more than ever, murdering en masse over pointless squabbles as if they were mere animals. They had forgotten the kaiju, and forgotten Mother Earth, despite her efforts to help them on their way.

It had been heartbreaking.

So she had further isolated her Houtua people and Infant Island, and retired to it to rest. She had been convinced at the time that her efforts had amounted to nothing, and would never amount to anything.

The Divine Moth was not proud of it, but for several millennia, she had given up on humanity. She simply secluded herself and hoped that, somehow, they might figure things out themselves. She did not want to see what would become of Earth in the meantime.

Then came Godzilla. Then Rodan, and others she had once known, reemerging into the world to wreak havoc.

Then the humans had had the audacity to kidnap her priestesses from Infant Island itself, and Mothra had given in to anger; a rare occurrence. She had decided then and there that she was back, and there to stay.

After clearing up that misunderstanding, Mothra had made every effort to reintegrate with the humans. Initially they were skeptical, but she was quick to prove her good will by defending them from threats, including the mechanical invader. It was thanks to that that she came to be recognized as an ally once again, and thanks to that that she discovered that the ancient weapons were not so lost after all.

With her help, the United States and Japan discovered what exactly they had in their possession, and just what the relics were capable of. She had helped them engineer them into the “Symphogear System”, hoping they would use it for good, and use it as a means of defense alone.

And just like always, a few bad humans ruined things. 

That was what had managed to worry the impossibly ancient Moth goddess so much: the Symphogears that had fallen into the wrong hands. Were their wielders truly villainous, or simply unwilling puppets to a darker plot? She could not know for certain, for even kaiju are not omniscient.

She could only hope that, if that was the case, the three of them would come around before irreparable damage could be dealt.

Tsubasa Kazanari had never been much of a traveler. Her second life as a guardian had necessitated occasional visits to the United States, but places like Europe were wholly unfamiliar to her. Fortunately, this also meant her popularity as an idol was much smaller there, allowing her to avoid being recognized on the street. A slight disguise was necessary, of course, but changing her distinct hairstyle and wearing sunglasses generally did the trick.

As such, the Japanese idol was undisturbed as she cast her watchful gaze out over Paris, from her vantage point on Eiffel’s observation deck. It wasn’t like she could see individual people well from this height, but she’d certainly be able to spot something like Kamacuras coming.

So focused was she on her surroundings that Tsubasa didn’t notice a new arrival to the tower’s top floor.

Neither did anyone else, despite the stranger’s bright, coral-pink hair, done up in a long ponytail. She was paid no mind as she strolled up to the railing and looked out over the city, lit beneath the sunlight.

Nobody there noticed, but every once in a while the pink-haired one’s head would turn, just slightly in the direction of the blue-haired one. Cursory glances from behind sunglasses, unnoticed by the observed party until, finally, Tsubasa straightened for a moment to stretch, and caught sight of her.

Shock blossomed on her face, so the other woman held a finger to her lips. The shock promptly morphed into confusion, and so Tsubasa marched over there, hands shoved aggressively into her own pockets.

“Fancy meeting you here, Maria,” she said, by way of greeting.

“Believe me, I wasn’t expecting you either, Tsubasa,” replied the idol-turned-terrorist. “How did you know where to find me?”

“We intercepted one of your group’s transmissions.”

“I see. More importantly, how did you know it was me?”

Tsubasa scoffed. “How am I the only one who does? Are you not a wanted terrorist right now?”

“I’m not sure,” Maria conceded with a shrug. “I guess my manner of dress, hairdo, and sunglasses conceal my identity perfectly.”

“I don’t buy that for a second,” Tsubasa replied, “It’s still obviously you.”

“Are you gonna yell that I’m here, and make a scene? Nobody else knows, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“What I ought to do,” said Tsubasa, “Is pin you to the railing right now and call for backup.”

“I can think of a better place for you to do something like that,” Maria teased, prompting an embarrassed flush to color Tsubasa’s cheeks.

“Why do you do that? Aren’t we enemies?”

Maria giggled. “Maybe it’s to throw you off. Or maybe I just think you’re cute, for a self-proclaimed sword. Would you like me to stop?”

“I’m getting used to it,” Tsubasa said.

“So you  _ don’t  _ want me to?”

“Do whatever you want. We’re going to be at each other’s throats whenever your lot calls Kamacuras anyway.”

“Oh, so you know which one is here? That bastard Jonah wouldn’t tell me anything,” grumbled Maria.

Tsubasa blinked behind her shades. “He didn’t tell you? That sounds like poor planning.”

“He doesn’t like me much. With him figuring out that I’ve been assisting evacuations, I imagine he might even be looking for a way to get rid of me.”

Tsubasa, in a bold move, grabbed Maria’s shoulder. “Can you run that by me again? You were assisting evacuations?”

Maria made jazz hands. “Surprise!”

Tsubasa opened her mouth, as if to speak, but closed it shortly after, before finally finding her words. “It… seems I’ve misjudged you, Maria. You really _don’t_ want to hurt people, do you?”

Maria sighed, casting glances this way and that. “Let’s get some coffee, Tsubasa.”

“Coffee?” Tsubasa repeated, a little louder than she had meant to, “Who do you think-”

“Ssh,” shushed Maria, “We’re in Paris. Humor me with a date, will you?”

Tsubasa turned the approximate color of a tomato. “D-d-d-date?!”

However, she did not protest further, and followed Maria as they descended the Eiffel Tower. Paris being Paris, it wasn’t too long of an uncomfortably quiet walk before they found a shop to sit down in. All the while, not a single person recognized either of them, which utterly baffled Tsubasa. It felt almost too convenient.

When they had been seated and received their coffee (espresso for Tsubasa, mocha for Maria), the older woman lifted a hand, palm out. “Before you say anything, I’ve made up my mind to help you, at least today. I remember reading about Kamacuras, and what her attacks entail; it’s not something I want to help unleash on these people. Count me as an ally.”

“Wonderful,” Tsubasa replied, “Shame you’ll go right back to being my foe afterward. Are you quite certain I can’t convince you to abandon the path you’re on?”

“Think about how many people the kaiju have killed since K-Day. Since they first turned against us, twenty millennia ago.”

“How long ago?” Tsubasa asked, wide-eyed.

Maria sighed from behind her coffee cup. “I forgot, you at S.O.N.G. don’t have hacked files full of classified data. Our coexistence with the kaiju came to a violent end around then, and we’ve only continued the behavior that led to that. We believe ourselves above them.”

“Maria, you can’t be that vague and expect me to see your side of things.”

“We used to live under them, worshipers of living gods. But as we started to seek our own power, and started to advance technologically, we waged war among ourselves, against the gods. In anger, they crushed us and abandoned us. And what did we do, left to our own devices?”

Tsubasa frowned. “Much of the same.”

Maria set down her coffee and sighed again. She removed her sunglasses, and met Tsubasa’s eyes.

“I’m about to tell you a very personal story, Tsubasa.”

“This is hardly the time,” stressed Tsubasa, “We have no idea when your associates might turn on the ORCA and bring that monster here.”

“I had a little sister,” Maria began, ignoring the other idol’s protests, “Her name was Serena. Out of all the potential candidates at the FIS, she had the best compatibility values. She didn’t even need LiNKER.”

“Wait,” Tsubasa interrupted. “Any wielder without Mothra’s personal blessing should require LiNKER. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Please don’t interrupt me.”

“S-sorry.”

Maria grinned bemusedly and continued, “At any rate, that meant she was the guinea pig for most of their little experiments, one of which was awakening Hedorah’s dormant core. They succeeded- and then Serena had to give her life with her Superb Song to stop it from escaping.”

Tsubasa blinked. “I’m… well… my condolences. I… understand how that feels, somewhat.”

Maria looked at her. “Care to share?”

“You’ve read about it, haven’t you?”

“Oh,” Maria said, “Your partner. She passed away in that attack as well.”

Tsubasa nodded, eyes fixed on someplace far away. “Her compatibility was never much, and she hadn’t had the chance to visit Mothra when the attack happened. Between the Superb Song’s kickback and the unfinished LiNKER she used… I lost her.”

“Then you should understand,” Maria pressed, “Why this needs to happen. Why this war needs to end sooner than later.”

“By sacrificing innocents, and destroying livelihoods?” challenged Tsubasa, “Have you considered that there may be better options?”

“If you have suggestions, I’m all ears. What  _ haven’t  _ we as a species tried at this point?”

“Understanding them,” Tsubasa said matter-of-factly, “Not as simple animals, not as enemies, but as the intelligent beings that we know them to be.”

“You’re suggesting we just… talk to them,” Maria surmised, “As if it’s that easy.”

“I never said it would be easy, but I believe it’s worth looking into. If we find proper communication with them, I’m certain we can make them see reason.”

“What makes you say that?”

Tsubasa frowned at her coffee. “You know, it’s difficult to explain. I think we just need to get you to have a good long discussion with Tachibana.”

Maria raised an eyebrow. “Your teammate? I don’t know her well, but could she really articulate such a point better than you?”

“It’s not about articulation. Just the opposite, in fact,” Tsubasa answered, meeting her eyes, “It’s about emotion. That girl has this… talent for getting through to people. If people and kaiju truly coexisted in the past, I trust her more than anyone to figure out a way to communicate with them.”

“You truly think so? We’ve made no headway, even with Mothra as a mediator. The best she’s accomplished is cutting individual attacks short.”

“I have a theory,” Tsubasa supplied, “That she’s fallen out of favor with the others. They no longer see her as an authority due to her insistence on siding with us.”

“You may be correct. Even so, until I see evidence of this idea of yours, I cannot abandon my path.”

“Even though it’s a path that you don’t want to walk?”

Maria tried to reply to that, but found she had no words. Then, the silence between the two of them was broken by a ringing from the older woman’s pocket. Alarm flashed across her face as she pulled out the phone and glanced at the screen. Tsubasa noticed instantly.

“Is it time?”

“Seems so,” Maria said through gritted teeth. “Damn him, giving me this little warning… follow me, Tsubasa.”

“Where are we going?” the guardian asked, getting to her feet.

“They turned it on at the Arc de Triomphe,” Maria explained, “But Kamacuras herself is outside the city. If we can get between her and it, we can minimize casualties. The problem lies in the fact that her young are likely spread over a much wider area and will appear first. You have to warn the populace.”

Tsubasa nodded. “Understood. Where will you be, once that’s done?”

“I’m not sure,” she confessed, “But if you follow my song, I shouldn’t be too hard to find. You know its sound well, do you not?”

Tsubasa rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips in spite of the situation, “Yes. Yes, I suppose that I do.”

When he awoke, it was for the first time in millennia. Sleep had been light and fitful, but he was well-rested all the same. Above had been relatively quiet, save for a few minor disturbances, so there had been no need to wake. The majority of the action had occurred far away, in places where his fellow guardians could take care of things. 

Very recently, though, a problematic presence had moved in nearby. It had caused no trouble, thankfully, but his sleep had lightened to near-wakefulness at its arrival. He was prepared, just in case he was needed. Defending the humans, those small and soft creatures, was his job. There had been no cause to do it for a while, but that didn’t mean he was slacking off. At least, that was what he told himself. He probably could have roused himself to check on the dark moth, try and fight off the sky phantom, or even drive off the newcomer before it could settle. But sleep was tantalizing and enjoyable, even if he retained some of the awareness of being awake.

The catalyst for his awakening, however, was something else entirely. It was a sound, a strange one somewhat similar to the nearby kaiju, but different. Artificial. 

Wrong.

And when he felt the kaiju move in response, the ancient guardian accepted that his sleep was over.

So he rose to his feet, shaking off accumulated silt and sending a flash of heat through his body to burn off the plant life that had begun growing on his scales. He turned to the source of the sound and approached the wall of his secluded cavern, still tracking the other creature.

When he began to dig, the surface shook.

Kamacuras found herself annoyed. Being a kaiju meant conserving energy, not moving or being active when unnecessary. Such was the burden of their size. But it was hard to rest with that  _ sound _ . Her children were already responding to it, driven to frenzy by it. Not even she could direct them to calm, scattered across this countryside as they were. All she could do was follow them, and keep an eye on them, make sure the humans did not slaughter too many. They would not grow as big or as mighty as her for millions of years, so they had to be safeguarded now, in their youth. She only hoped some would survive to adulthood before the Enemy’s return, or her race might very well die with her.

The massive mantid rose, spreading her wings. While she was generally a land-faring creature, her wings were capable of carrying her aloft to cover distance more quickly. She could not come anywhere close to the speed of the real fliers, but it beat walking in situations like these. Her children, all around, were taking to the air as well. In the distance, she pinpointed the sound, and resolved to stamp it out, much like that irritating mimicry of the Moth’s song just a few short years before.

She stepped out of her cave, prompting alarm from the humans that had observed her since her arrival. They had nothing to fear, however. They were not the target of her, nor her swarm.

A great cloud of dust and debris rose into the air as the colossal insect made her way to her target, unaware of the concealed presence headed for the same place, miles below the surface of the Earth.

Maria Cadenzavna Eve wasn’t a huge fan of insects. She was more partial to warmer, fluffier creatures, like cats or penguins. As such, fighting off mutant praying mantises taller than her was not proving to be an enjoyable task. They were little challenge to cut down, thanks to Gungnir’s power, but there sure were a lot of them, going after innocents with every intention of eating them. So her Armed Gear and her cape both swung, cleaving through thoraxes and breaking pincer-like forelimbs. Every once in a while, the Kamacurids would gang up on her, and that especially got her blood pressure up, what with their compound eyes leering at her.

The kaiju sirens started up, and thankfully it seemed that the Parisians were well-prepared, perhaps due to anxiety over this very possibility. They rushed inside, avoiding the Kamacurids as best they could, long enough for Maria to rush over and destroy the creatures. The civilians looked confused at her so clearly aiding them, but she was used to that. Her Symphogear did not disguise her.

As she glanced about after ripping one of the mantids apart with her bare hands as her Armed Gear returned to her(a grisly affair, but the larvae were not intelligent creatures like their ancient mother), she caught sight of one of the ones wheeling about the sky just in time for it to vanish in an explosion. Not her doing, meaning that the local anti-kaiju forces had mobilized. That was good. A quick response.

When Tsubasa, clad fully in Ame-no-Habakiri, cleaved one of the larger insects down the middle on her way to Maria’s side, she was reassured further.

“Casualties?” she asked shortly.

“None that I could see on my way here,” Tsubasa replied. “Helicopters will be up soon, and infantry are still mobilizing. The main body of the swarm isn’t here yet, but I think we can trust these people to handle things, so long as we keep the mother busy.”

“You mean there are more?” Maria asked, trying and failing to keep the horror out of her voice.

“Thousands when they attacked three years ago, though Kanade and I killed many, and she can’t lay any more eggs without a male. I’d wager they total around… twelve hundred?”

“Чудовий,” grumbled Maria, with no small amount of sarcasm, “Are you quite certain these people can handle that many? Was that concert not a disaster?”

“It was only me and Kanade then,” Tsubasa explained as she impaled one of the smaller larvae through the head with a dagger, “We had no reliable form of crowd control. These folk have more than enough firepower to kill the larvae in one shot, especially once the air support arrives. The mother, though, will require our attention. You said they were at-?”

“Arc de Triomphe,” Maria affirmed, taking Tsubasa’s hand, “Follow me.”

“You need not hold my hand,” said Tsubasa.

“Sure,” replied the coral-haired idol, “But I’d like to, if that’s okay.”

“I can’t run properly if we’re tethered together.”

Maria released her. “I see. Forgive me, then. Stay close.”

“Believe me, Maria,” Tsubasa said as the two of them leapt from rooftop to rooftop, “I wouldn’t mind holding your hand under different circumstances.”

“Are you flirting?”

“Hm. I suppose that is how you could interpret this.”

Maria performed a somersault, and her cape swung down and out to decapitate a passing mantid. “Seems like a bit of a step down after you offered to take me to bed, though. Not that I’d mind-”

“THAT,” Tsubasa cut her off as she kicked an attacking larva in the eye, collapsing its head, “Was me trying to sound cool. I didn’t really mean anything by it, nor did it even come out right.”

“A Freudian slip, then?” teased the older woman as the Arc de Triomphe came into view, “It’s alright, I won’t judge you.”

“We are almost there, I see your accomplices, and this conversation is over,” Tsubasa issued the ultimatum, pulling ahead of Maria and hefting her sword.

The roundabout was littered with abandoned cars, and Tsubasa stepped lightly on their roofs as she darted over to the historic arch, where she came face-to-face for the first time with the man responsible for all the recent incidents.

“Well, hello,” Alan Jonah said, turning to face the swordswoman, one hand behind his back. “Good to see you, lady Kazanari. How are your idol endeavors going? Are people still unaware of this little side job of yours?”

“You would be surprised at how good S.O.N.G. is at plugging information leaks,” Tsubasa replied tersely, “There’s an entire sub-department devoted to browsing 4chan.”

The other man present, whom Tsubasa was unfamiliar with, snorted.

Maria landed an instant later, brandishing her spear. “Turn it off, Jonah.”

“Well, well,” said the old man, a twisted grin on his face, “Look who’s helping the enemy again. Really, I don’t know what I expected.”

“Don’t give me that,” snarled Maria, all composure abandoned, “You know what you’re bringing here. What Kamacuras does in attacks. You just want to watch people suffer, don’t you?”

“‘People suffer’, hm?” Jonah echoed, “What do you think happens in  _ every  _ kaiju attack, Maria? Just because the methods are different doesn’t change that there is always pain and death. There is no cruelty in their actions, except maybe in Godzilla’s case, which I understand.”

“Where is the ORCA?” Tsubasa demanded, placing the point of her sword at the old man’s throat. Her motion prompted the other man to immediately shoot her in the head, but the swordswoman didn’t even flinch as the bullet crumpled against her skin and clattered to the floor.

“No need for that, Asher,” said Jonah. “She’ll take me alive before anything else.” Then he addressed Tsubasa, “It isn’t here. This equipment is broadcasting it, but the device itself is hidden. Do you take me for an amateur?”

“If you’re so professional, why did you put yourself out in the open where you could be caught so easily?”

Jonah’s eyes fixated on a point past Tsubasa’s shoulder, even as they turned hard. “Caught? You really are green. You haven’t caught the likes of me until I’m in the depths of solitary confinement, behind a door that lacks a key. For you this might be a new conflict, but I’ve been fighting this war on humanity for thirty years. And I have no mightier ally than Earth’s true rulers.”

Tsubasa turned slowly, following the terrorist’s line of sight.

And there it was, there  _ she  _ was, descending to the ground just a few blocks away. Seventy meters of emerald green exoskeleton, towering over them like the natural god that she was. Kamacuras had arrived, and Tsubasa and Maria both realized the simple genius of Jonah’s plan. They would have to leave him to attack her.

_ “Tsubasa!” _

Tsubasa put a hand to her ear. “Ogawa-san?”

_ “I’ve been helping with the evacuation. Killed a few of the little ones, too. Do you need any assistance?” _

Tsubasa left Jonah and the other one alone and turned to face the nearby monster, who had already smashed several structures with her mere landing. The larva were there in greater numbers too. “A pair of runners will be leaving the Arc de Triomphe shortly. Try and catch them, but come no closer. The kaiju is here.”

_ “ _ That  _ kaiju?”  _ asked the ninja. 

“Affirmative,” replied Tsubasa, “ _ That  _ kaiju. Tsubasa out.”

_ “Be careful. Remember why you’re here. Ogawa out.” _

Jonah and Asher fled, leaving the equipment, and after Maria destroyed the speakers with a single flourish of her cape, the two Symphogear wielders strode out into the open where Kamacuras could see them.

“Do you remember me, monster?” Tsubasa asked, even though she doubted the mantis could hear her. “Do you remember what you did?”

So focused was she on her enemy that she didn’t feel the ground shake beneath her feet, or perhaps she wrote it off as Kamacuras shifting her weight. Maria, though, felt it, and knew it couldn’t have been the insect that faced them. It came from below, like an earthquake.

A few more steps closer to Kamacuras, and it happened again. Then again.

“Tsubasa,” Maria said, “I think something else is coming.”

“Another kaiju? Let it come. I feel like I could take on Godzilla himself right now.”

“That doesn’t sound like the talk of a guardian,” Maria chastised, even as a few of the larvae around Kamacuras charged them.

“You know,” Tsubasa replied in a voice like ice, “A little voice deep inside is telling me that too. That you’re right. But a much louder voice at the surface is calling for that monster’s blood, for me to avenge Kanade.”

Then her sword quadrupled in length, and she sliced through four Kamacurid larvae with a single swing.

“I’m not sure which voice to listen to.”

“I know what it’s like,” Maria said, “To wish for revenge. But you mustn’t throw your principles aside in pursuit of something like that.”

Tsubasa took a deep breath. In, out. Composed herself. Crouched down, prepared to cut through as many larvae as necessary. Readied herself to jump at Kamacuras, even as the localized earthquake reached a fever pitch.

Just as she did, the Arc de Triomphe exploded, and a colossal crimson figure launched itself into the air, brushing Tsubasa aside and slamming into the giant mantis like a meteorite impact. The titanic insect screeched in shock and pain as she was bowled over, kicking up a great cloud of debris as the newcomer landed on his feet. Heat shimmer rose from his back as he squared his stance and rose to his full quadrupedal height, taller than Kamacuras was.

A long horn glowed orange-hot as the creature surveyed his surroundings. Maria and Tsubasa, who had just gotten to her feet after being knocked away by the newcomer, had never seen anything like him before. He was brand-new, undiscovered in the sixty-six years since monsters made themselves known.

What they didn’t know was that long ago he, like his fellows Mothra and Orochi, had accepted human-given names, unlike the other kaiju.

Baragon, Guardian Kaiju of Earth, opened his jaws wide, baring conical teeth at the recovering mantid, and let out a piercing roar, announcing his intent to at last resume protecting mankind.

“I’ve never seen that one before!” Maria cried as she hurried to help Tsubasa steady herself, “Was it just hiding? Also, are you alright?”

“Fine,” Tsubasa ground out, “It barely grazed me. Funny sense of timing, though.”

“Should we let it handle this?” asked Maria as Baragon roared again, a surprisingly high sound. 

“No reason not to assist,” Tsubasa replied, “The sooner it’s driven off, the better.”

“Fair enough. Would you like to lead?”

Tsubasa looked at her, then smiled and nodded. “Yes. Let’s go, Maria.”

The two idols charged as Kamacuras rose to her four feet and screeched furiously, striking out with a forelimb at Baragon. He casually parried the blow with his horn, then roared again, once more attempting intimidation. The mantis refused to back down, so Baragon got serious.

Heat distorted the air above the monster’s petal-like armored back, and smoke hissed from the corners of his mouth. It was not glowing blue vapor a la Godzilla, but simply gray wisps of more normal smoke. And when the red kaiju opened his mouth, a jet of bright yellow-orange fire shot right at Kamacuras, as if the monster were a preposterously oversized flamethrower.

The mantis stumbled back once again as great clouds of smoke wafted from her charred exoskelton. Dozens of her young, burnt to crisps, fell to the streets even as Tsubasa fired her Blue Flash from a nearby roof, carving out a crescent of the bug kaiju’s armor. At the same time, Maria drove Gungnir’s Armed Gear into the monster’s arm, cratering the exoskeleton there as well. 

Baragon took note of the two. For a moment he was puzzled by their power, but upon closer inspection, noted faint moth wings glowing at their backs, and recognized the sound they were giving off. During his time asleep, it seemed the humans had been busy with the relics. He would happily accept their help.

Kamacuras shrieked and threw them off, snapping out her wings. As the mantis crouched down, ready to leap into the air, Baragon channeled his fire into his horn once again, creating a burning blade. He just missed as Kamacuras took to the sky, but she was a mantid. Not a very agile flier, all things considered.

Even so, the wind of her wings tore shingles from roofs as she flew in a wide circle. Devoid of any ranged attacks, her only option would be to build up speed and strike him with force as her wounds healed.

Baragon snorted. Let her try.

Kamacuras screeched furiously as she charged him, claws outstretched, but she was going much too fast to stop by that point as Baragon let out a triumphant roar of his own, having reached his checkmate.

The kaiju reared onto his hind legs, nearly doubling his height in an instant, and then dropped back down, right on top of Kamacuras, and the ground shook once again. Maria and Tsubasa both cringed as the thud of impact was followed immediately by a sickening, wet crunch.

As the dust settled, Kamacuras’ condition was more than apparent. Baragon stepped backward off her, carefully placing his feet where they wouldn’t cause further damage to the city, evidently believing that he’d done enough damage.

Indeed, Kamacuras was wounded in a fashion that, by all accounts, should have been fatal. Green blood had pooled in the crater, and only by supporting her weight on all six limbs was the kaiju able to stand shakily.

Tsubasa could have done it.

She could have sung her Superb Song, directed her attack at the weakened monster, put her out of her misery and removed her threat forever.

She could have avenged Kanade. Right then and there.

Instead she let her Armed Gear vanish, sheathed in her Gear’s armor, and jumped across the street to Maria as Kamacuras limped into the sky on tattered wings, issuing a screech that rallied the young Kamacurids to her.

“You let her go.”

“I did.”

“Why did you change your mind?”

“Kanade became a Symphogear wielder because she wanted revenge. But over time, that purpose faded away, and she found her motivation in helping people.”

Maria smiled. “So, you’ve snapped out of it, then?”

Tsubasa returned the grin, almost like a challenge. “She would not have wanted me taking revenge for her sake. Next time we meet, you’ll face a guardian once more.”

The pink-haired woman blinked. “You aren’t going to bring me in?”

“You aren’t the problem,” Tsubasa confided, “Jonah is. Dr. Ver is. That Nastassja woman is. I know you have your doubts. Think about what I said earlier, Maria. You don’t need to go along with them.”

Maria nodded. “Trust me when I say that you have… watered the seeds of doubt, so to speak.”

Tsubasa watched her go as Baragon sat on his haunches, looking around at a Paris that had, for the most part, survived a kaiju attack almost unscathed in terms of casualties.

The Arc de Triomphe  _ was  _ gone, though.

**CHAPTER XII: Guardians**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for being a day late on this one. I struggled a bit writing it, including cutting the kaiju fight short to create a tangible power gap between Kamacuras and Baragon, who's more of a force to be reckoned with in this fic.  
> Next week, Gigan starts to wonder what makes the Evangelions tick.   
> Thank you for reading, and be sure to stay safe and healthy, especially if you live in the United States like me. Things're kind of going to shit.


	13. CHAPTER XIII: Defeat Is No Option

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sung in this chapter is Kyōshitsu Monochrome. Chris'll get to do one of her fight songs soon, I promise.

_The taxonomy of kaiju, quite frankly, makes no sense. Most of them can be traced back to plausible ancestors, but the additional traits they have developed on top of their gigantism are utterly baffling. Look no further than Godzilla as the quintessential example- a warm-blooded lizard with ears and, perhaps most offensively, gills. That’s to say nothing of his apparent sapience and opposable thumbs, evolutionary features that were initially believed to have appeared around the same time as humans, on a geological scale. Godzilla, and others like him, beat us to the punch by at least 250 million years. As for what Godzilla came from, frontrunning theories include synapsid reptiles, similar to Dimetrodon, who could have been his contemporary near the end of the Permian, depending on Godzilla’s exact age._

**From a monthly scientific journal, published August 2000.**

**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


Chris Yukine had had a hard life. A rather uniquely hard life, at that. In a time where most people’s tragic backstories and reasons for fighting involved kaiju, her tale was of depressingly human cruelty.

The end of the Age of Monsters in 1995 was a suddenly opened door of opportunity for the whole world. For civilians, for corporations, for governments. That was why it didn’t take long for the South American country of Val Verde to become embroiled in a coup, a brutal internal war for control of the relatively small country. Due to its size and small influence, the war had received little international attention. 

It had attracted the attention of Masanori Yukine and his wife Sonnet, though. A husband-wife pair of famous musicians, and some of the most bright and generous people around. That was how Chris remembered them, at least. Things had gone well for a while. They had brought her along, and traveled the country performing and donating.

Then came the bomb. She’d found them, killed instantly by the force of the blast. They had not suffered, and weren’t even badly disfigured. But her parents were dead all the same.At the time, she had thought things incapable of getting any worse. How wrong the eight-year-old Chris had been.

Those men had found her quickly, a live body among the corpses and the rubble. They’d taken her without a second thought, and for all her kicking and screaming, she had not gotten away. What followed were the worst six years of Chris’s life. In such a war-torn place, where human rights were nothing but a largely ignored suggestion, an active slave trade had quickly sprung up. Chris was quickly trafficked.

Six long, grueling years of being little more than property, passed around by warlords and forced to do their bidding, under pain of death. Looking back, Chris could only attribute her survival in such an environment to her anger at all of them, a desire to grow strong and escape one day. Thankfully, it had never come to that.

A group of eco-terrorists had somehow managed to tear off a sizable piece of the plant kaiju Biollante, and had transported it across the ocean to plant it in the jungles of the Amazon rainforest. The effect was immediate as the kaiju took root, and before long the jungle treeline was encroaching on previously deforested areas, reclaiming the land humankind had stolen. Val Verde was right in the path of the restorational destruction. The UN, pressured by neighboring South American countries, finally intervened in Val Verde after years of bloody internal conflict.

Chris had finally, finally believed herself freed. After a bit of time with the rescue forces, she had been transported to Japan, apparently to be temporarily taken in by a place called “Section Two”. That had been the plan, at least. Things tended to go awry where she was concerned.

A naked blond woman named Finé, accompanied by megafauna that seemed to somehow do her bidding, had wasted little time kidnapping her from the transport caravan she had been in, and at first Chris had wondered if this woman’s care would turn out to be better than the alternative. For a few days, Chris had been allowed to roam the mansion and live in comfort, and the meals Finé had prepared put anything she’d had in the previous six years to utter shame. For just a little while, it had seemed as though things were looking up.

Then the woman had told Chris why she’d taken her. What she had in store for her, and for the world. Told her of the peaceful times before humans ruined everything, times that Finé had personally seen thanks to her access to genetic memory, which made her unique among humans.

Chris, so bitter at such a young age, had pledged herself to Finé’s goals, believing that Finé’s way of subjugation would be the only path to peace. The current human world, the one that bred so much hatred and violence in so short a time, could not be allowed to continue.

After that came the emotional, physical, and even sexual abuse. The cleverly disguised manipulation. Her being subjected to experiments involving Mothra scales to artificially raise her compatibility with the Symphogear, then forced to wield Ichaival, then Nehushtan after its awakening. Three years of being trapped with the illusion of freedom. 

And then along came a certain idiot.

Chris resented her at first. How couldn’t she? Hibiki Tachibana, some random, was suddenly more important to Finé than her. In spite of all the abuse, Chris still craved Finé’s approval and affection, and this Hibiki was depriving her of that.

Imagine her shock when the very same Hibiki proved to be the literal antithesis to everything Chris hated about the current state of society. A ray of light piercing the deepest shadows. She wanted the same thing Chris did: peace. But Hibiki had a much more naive and idealistic way of trying to achieve it.

When Finé cast her out, Chris found herself warming up to Hibiki Tachibana’s ideals. Warming up to Hibiki Tachibana, to Tsubasa Kazanari, as people.

And that was how, for the first time in a decade, Chris found herself among friends.

With Finé’s death (she prayed it would stick this time), Chris had been hoping for quiet going forward, so that she could pursue a proper education at Lydian. Fortunately, S.O.N.G. was paying her tuition and living costs, so she didn’t have to stress over anything else.

Until Godzilla came ashore from out of Tokyo Bay, killed seventy thousand people, woke up damn near every kaiju on the planet, and went right back into the ocean. Things were certainly not going to be quiet going forward.

But humanity had dealt with this for forty years of the last century. The First Age had been a time of complete chaos until governments realized that the kaiju weren’t going to stop coming. It was necessary to create new regulations to construct the populace’s daily lives _around_ the kaiju. One couldn’t shut down all the schools in an area whenever a kaiju attacked nearby, or none of the kids would ever be in class. Suspending services like that would do no good for the places where the damage had been done.

That was why Lydian was continuing its classes as normal, despite Godzilla, Rodan, Gigan, and Jishin-Mushi’s recent appearances nearby. Why there was a school festival, of all things, occurring that day. Tsubasa wasn’t there, of course, but the idiot and her basically-wife were, so Chris felt she could allow herself to unwind a bit, to relax and enjoy the festivities. If only it were that simple.

The fact was, she had a lot of things on her mind. Namely the three Symphogear wielders on the enemy’s side. As far as she could tell, they had the same idea in their heads that she once had. She knew better now, of course, but these three, for the most part, didn’t appear to be being manipulated by Drs. Nastassja or Ver. Jonah, on the other hand, had to be manipulating all of them. There was no way he would just join up with a cause dedicated to helping humanity in the long run.

Or maybe he knew they were doomed to fail, and intended to help them to that final destination. In the wake of Kamacuras’s thwarted attack and Baragon’s peaceful departure, France had dropped any notion of dismantling their kaiju defenses. That was one country that the organization Finé wasn’t going to get.

“Oi, Chris.”

Chris looked up at her green-haired friend, stepping off memory lane. “Hmm? What is it, Yuki?”

“You were spacing out there. Almost walked into somebody.”

“Really?” Chris asked, glancing about, “I didn’t notice.”

“She ducked out of your way long before you woulda hit her,” Komichi supplied, “But if you kept walking, it was a collision course.”

“Crisis averted, I suppose,” Chris mused as they headed for Lydian’s little concert hall.

“I can’t believe you almost walked into her!” Shirabe hissed.

“I didn’t!” Kirika defended herself, leaning back as Shirabe leaned forward into her space. “You pulled me out of the way before she even saw me!”

“You’re lucky her thoughts were elsewhere, Kiri-chan,” the dark-haired girl intoned, adjusting her faux glasses, “Or she would’ve seen us, and things would have gotten ugly right there in the courtyard.”

“We could’ve taken her by ourselves, dess,” Kirika mumbled.

Shirabe took a deep breath, pouting a little. “That’s not the point. We’re supposed to be undercover, collecting intel on them.”

Kirika folded her arms. “Then why were we out in the open visiting the food stalls, dess?”

Shirabe blinked, then averted her eyes. “Well, I guess I was just… tired of the rations. Maria can’t sneak us catering from her concerts anymore, so…”

“It’s okay, Shirabe,” said Kirika, taking her hand, “I get it. Let’s enjoy this as much as we can, okay?”

“Okay, Kiri-chan,” Shirabe conceded, “You need to get your mind off things too, so I guess we can have a little fun. As long as we get our job done, too.”

“My mind?” Kirika asked, attempting deflection, “You know my mind isn’t on much of anything, ever! No thoughts, head empty, dess!”

Shirabe was back in her space again. “Staaaaare.”

The Igalima wielder cracked instantly. “Well, okay, I guess I’ve been worrying over some stuff, but not the stuff you think. I’m fine, I promise!”

Shirabe rolled her eyes. “You can tell me more when you’re ready. Just don’t let it eat away at you, Kiri-chan.”

Kirika nodded, if only to end the conversation. How was she to tell Shirabe that she was worried about having her consciousness wiped out and her memories replaced with the genetically hereditary ones of Finé herself? Between herself, Shirabe, and Maria, any of them could have been susceptible. Nastassja had initially told them it was likely to happen to Maria, who had taken the information in stride.

Then, just before Maria left for France with Jonah, Nastassja had pulled her aside, and Kirika had eavesdropped.

It _wasn’t_ Maria. Which meant it was either herself or Shirabe. Both of those options terrified Kirika. She would either lose herself, or the person she loved most in the world.

So perhaps distraction would do her some good. The school’s PA system announced a karaoke contest at that moment, which sounded good to her.

“Wanna go compete, Shirabe?”

“Do we really want to put ourselves onstage, Kiri-chan?”

Kirika smiled, raising a finger as if she was about to make a point, then found she had none. “Oh. Yeah, you’re probably right, dess. Can we at least watch?”

Shirabe smiled and took her hand again. “Sure, Kiri-chan.”

“Chris-chan!”

“Chris!”

Chris turned to Yuki, Komichi, and Otome. “You mind if I go sit with them for this? I haven’t seen them all day.”

Otome nodded. “Go ahead, but remember what we told you. You belong up there.”

Chris reddened. “I’m really not _that_ good at singing, you guys. Trust me.”

Yuki coughed. “Sure you aren’t.”

Chris rolled her eyes and walked down the row to where Hibiki and Miku sat, both laden down by various snacks, especially Hibiki.

“Heya, Chris-chan!” Hibiki said, brightly as ever, “Want some popcorn?”

“If I let you eat all of that by yourself, you’ll get sick, even with your black hole of a stomach,” Chris replied, taking a handful of the warm fluffy treat. “Speaking of which, how’re you feeling?”

“My chest feels fine,” Hibiki answered, “Nothing’s burning or anything. It sucks not being able to go help you, though.”

“No worries, ya dumbass,” Chris said through a mouthful of popcorn, “It’s just pest control anyways. I can handle a Deinonychus, a few Manas crabs, or a baby Skullcrawler by myself.”

“Deinonywha?” asked Hibiki.

“A dinosaur, Hibiki,” Miku supplied, “One of the ones with the big toe claws.”

“Those things are dinosaurs?” Hibiki gasped. “I’ve knocked like ten of them out and I never knew! I thought the dinosaurs were extinct!”

“Do you just not pay attention in history class, dumbass?” Chris said, “They’ve been alive on Skull Island for a while, and since the incident there in the 70s, lots have been escaping into the Hollow Earth.”

“Is Godzilla a dinosaur?” Hibiki turned to Miku, who shrugged and took a bite of her taiyaki as the first volunteering group took to the stage.

It was Hibiki and Miku’s friends, all dressed in costumes from a popular tokusatsu show. They sang the opening theme to a somewhat mixed audience reaction, though Hibiki and Miku clapped for them vigorously.

As the three of them were escorted off the stage, the MC turned to the audience. “Now who’s our next performer going to be? Any volunteers? Don’t be shy!”

Chris thought about what her friends had said to her. For a moment, she really considered standing up and marching down to the stage to sing.

 _Nah,_ she decided, reaching into her bag for a thermos full of spaghetti.

“Say, Chris?”

“Yeah?” Chris said to Miku, “You want me to go get more snacks or something?”

“No,” Miku said, gesturing to her own lap that was still well-stocked, “I think you should try your best out there.”

“You want me to sing? In front of all these people?” Chris hissed, “Why does everyone want me to do that today?”

“I think you should try too,” Hibiki supplied around a bit of food. “Your voice is great, Chris-chan! I wanna hear it outside of a fight for once, you know?”

“No means no, dumbass,” Chris replied, crossing her arms as if that were final.

“Ooh,” Hibiki pretend-swooned, placing a hand on her forehead, “Is it getting hot in here, or is it just my terminal illness-”

“You and I _both_ know that’s not what your problem is,” Chris almost snarled, getting to her feet. “You owe me anpan for this.”

“You there in the audience!” the MC called as the spotlight swiveled to Chris. “Are you volunteering?”

“That’s right,” responded Chris, still sounding a little heated, “Chris Yukine, third year.”

“Come on down!”

Chris turned to where she knew her friends were sitting and threw them a fake frown. All three simply gave her a thumbs up in return.

“So,” the MC asked her quietly when she’d arrived, “What’ll you be singing for us today, Yukine-san?”

Chris contemplated for a moment, then settled on a song she rather liked. She felt it fit the situation rather aptly too, and told the MC in a whisper, who nodded to confirm they did indeed have it.

“Hey, Kiri-chan. Isn’t that-”

“It is, dess,” Kirika replied, even as she scrunched down in her seat. “I didn’t think they’d be part of this! What if someone hears them in battle later and makes the connection?”

“Something tells me they’ll get a knock on the door from S.O.N.G. that night,” Shirabe mused.

“Ooh, I didn’t think of that,” Kirika said quickly, mind suddenly racing, “They do have a literal ninja on their team. Scary, dess.”

They both quieted down when the music started, though, and their ideological enemy began to sing.

Generally, Chris’s battle songs were aggressive. Fast-paced songs from her heart, with all sorts of lyrics expressing her fiery nature. This song was almost the exact opposite, yet somehow fit her perfectly as she began in a tone that was a far cry from her almost yell-like singing while in her Gear.

_Mada minu hontō no jibun no koto ga, Jibun jishin demo wakaranakute_

Chris thought about just how perfect the song’s lyrics were for her situation even as she sang them. She’d always rather enjoyed it simply musically, but never really considered until right then that she basically could’ve written it herself.

_Dareka ni te wo sashinobete moratte, Itami to wa chigatta itami wo shiru_

She thought about her new friends, her friends at Lydian. About Yuki, Komichi, and Otome. About how the three of them had approached her the very same day she transferred in, and offered to eat together.

_Monokurōmu no mirai yosōzu, Enogu wo sagashite… demo ima wa_

She thought about how they’d taken her admittedly impolite refusal with smiles on their faces, and offered her the space that she’d wanted at first.

_Naze darō, naze darō, Irozuku yo yukkuri to hana ga niji ni_

Of course, it didn’t take long for Chris to get lonely. With Hibiki and Miku a grade below her, and Tsubasa a grade above, she didn’t have anyone to hang out with.

_Hokotte saku mitai ni, Hōkago no chaimu ni majitta kaze ga fukinukeru_

So, the next time they’d asked, Chris accepted. Their dynamic quickly became apparent. Yuki was the carefree goofball, Komichi the studious and helpful type, and Otome the more reserved, nerdy sort. They were all incredibly accepting of Chris right from the get-go, and that alone helped her trust them.

_Kanjita koto nai igokochi no yosa ni mada tomadotteru yo, Nē konna sora ga takai to_

Chris wasn’t the type to open up quickly- even with Hibiki and the others, it had been out of necessity- and that held true for this group too. Yet they were fine with her spending time with them sporadically, gradually figuring out how to navigate personally uncharted waters.

_Egao ga ne… kakusenai_

As time went on, Chris found that talking to Yuki, Komichi, and Otome was becoming more easy, more natural. It reached the point where she would consider them friends of hers, a distinguished title when it came to her.

_Waratte mo ī kana, Yurushite moraeru no kana_

Chris felt that it was odd to have two separate groups of friends, though, and introduced them to Hibiki and the others. They’d all completely lost their shit when famous-idol Tsubasa showed up, and it became a running gag between the four of them to make up stories about how Chris could’ve met someone like that.

_Atashi wa atashi no, Seīppai, seīppai…_

At one point, a rather scandalous suggestion had been made, which Chris had quickly shut down even as her face glowed. She didn’t feel that way about her senpai; she wasn’t sure if she’d ever feel that way about anyone. After explaining to her new friends why she was averse to the concept, they’d dropped it quickly and promised not to make jokes of that variety again; yet again surprising Chris with their tolerance.

_Kokoro kara, kokoro kara… Aru ga mama ni_

All told, having so many friends was incredible, Chris decided. She wasn’t quite as close with them as she was with her pals at S.O.N.G., but she couldn’t be with them at school, so it was nice to have people she was close to there.

_Utatte mo ī no kana…!_

All of these things whizzed through her head as she sang, the lyrics memorized and flowing from her mouth as easily as a river down its banks. 

_Taiyō ga kyōshitsu e to sasu hikari ga mabushikatta, Yukidoke no yō ni nazeka namida ga afurete tomaranai yo_

Years ago, Chris never would have imagined being where she was today. The life she was living would have seemed like little more than a pipe dream, the pathetic wish of a broken girl.

_Konna konna atatakainda… Atashi no kaeru basho_

But it wasn’t. It really and truly was her life now, and she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

_Atashi no kaeru basho…_

She had a place to call home.

The song concluded, Chris shut her eyes tight, and there was silence in the auditorium.

And then there was applause.

Chris’s eyes flew open.

They… liked it?

Loudest of all were her friends, every one of them. Chris found them out in the audience, clapping and cheering like there was no tomorrow. She began to tear up as her eyes swept over the audience, over every smiling face-

Only to find two out of place. Smiling like the rest, but familiar in the wrong way. 

Kirika Akatsuki and Shirabe Tsukuyomi. They jumped as her eyes landed on them and immediately beat a hasty retreat.

Chris thanked the audience and MC with equal haste and made to leave and follow them, and prayed that, just for once, Hibiki would stay put and stay out of trouble.

“Shit,” Chris hissed as she stepped out into the sunlight, glancing around for telltale twintails or blond hair. She quickly found them making a getaway, but to her chagrin, heard the idiot call out behind her.

“Stay here!” yelled Chris, “I’ll handle this!”

“Chris-chan, wait!”

Chris instead left the protesting Gungnir wielder behind and ran. She’d never been much for running compared to Hibiki or Tsubasa, but it seemed that these two kids weren’t exactly athletes either. It was fortunate, though, that not all of the school was being used for the festival, because the chase soon led the two parties someplace unoccupied. Chris decided that that was her opportunity and fished her pendant out of her shirt.

 _Killter Ichaival tron,_ she sang, continuing to run.

Space and time bent and warped into a pocket dimension, a moving bubble containing only Chris and the energy that would shortly coalesce into her Symphogear. It concentrated in her legs first to help her run faster, taking the form of her heeled shoes. Ichaival gradually took shape as she sped up, first creating the ring and “wings” at her hips that stored her artillery. Her crossbows, stored as armored gauntlets, clattered into place next, followed by the Gear’s completion with her headgear.

“ _Bang,_ ya little troublemakers!” Chris declared as the bubble dissipated. She heard the blond one cry something like “deeeeeess”.

Bubbles of pink and green blossomed around the two of them, then instantly revealed them in their own Gears. 

“What’re you doing here, kids?” Chris asked, drawing a crossbow and leveling it at them, phonic energy arrows already loaded, “Thinking about applying? Gotta tell ya, the curriculum's nasty.”

“Don’t patronize us,” Shirabe snapped quietly, “We were here to try and get intel on you and your friends, but all we learned was that you can sing really well.”

“Enjoy the performance?” Chris asked, still on guard.

“Yeah, actually,” muttered Kirika.

“That so?” Chris grinned, “How’s about I give ya an enc-”

“Chris-chan!”

Chris whipped around, “Are you _fucking_ kidding me?! What did I tell you, idiot?”

“You saw what they did to that space chicken, Chris-chan!” Hibiki argued, “You can’t beat them by yourself!”

 _Space chicken?_ thought Chris. Then, “I don’t care, dumbass! Stay outta this!”

“Not happening! _Balwisyall nescell Gungnir tron!”_

A flash of gold later, and all four of them were wearing Symphogears. But in Hibiki’s case, the glow didn’t disappear. It pulsed from her very skin, everywhere the armor didn’t cover. With it came heat, too. Chris could feel it even with a few meters’ distance.

 _Great,_ Chris thought, _Burning Idiots now. I wonder how this one’s gonna get worse._

Almost immediately after that, it did.

“Kiri-chan. I think we have to do _that._ Gungnir’s looking oddly strong right now.”

“ _That?_ ” asked Kirika, “Oh, I’d hoped we wouldn’t have to… can we handle it, dess?

“If we don’t, we lose.”

“What are you two whispering about over there?” Chris called, startling the girls.

“How about we show you instead?” Kirika said, with an attempt at a confident smirk.

What Chris heard next chilled her to her very bones despite the heat emanating from Hibiki.

_Gatrandis babel ziggurat edenal_

Hibiki gasped.

 _Emustolronzen_ _F_ _iné el balal zizzl_

“The hell do you two think you’re doing?!” Chris screamed, “You’ll kill yourselves!”

_Gatrandis babel ziggurat edenal_

Then Chris realized that a third voice had joined in, and turned to her friend as Hibiki finished the Superb Song alongside their opponents.

 _Emustolronzen_ _Fi_ _né el zizzl_

Kirika and Shirabe blinked in confusion as their phonic gain rose and fell dramatically in the space of an instant, back to their base values. They were even more shocked when no blood gushed from any of their orifices, the only notable side effect either of them felt being nausea.

Then they noticed where all the energy was flowing: right into the open hand of Hibiki Tachibana.

Her gauntlet had unfolded, and brighter even than the golden shine suffusing her was the band of rainbow light whirling within the usually-hidden components. Kirika and Shirabe understood at once: that was their Superb Songs, the power pulled away and into Hibiki’s own.

“What?” Shirabe asked, wobbling on her feet as the rainbow glow intensified, “How can she use a Superb Song without an Armed Gear?!”

“I don’t have… an Armed Gear…” Hibiki started through gritted teeth, “Because then… my hands wouldn’t be free!”

She brought her arms together, and the gauntlets fused to better handle the load of three Superb Songs even as the concrete at Hibiki’s feet started to melt from her body heat.

“I practiced this with Chris-chan and Tsubasa-san,” Hibiki muttered, sweat boiling and evaporating off her skin as steam, “But I guess it works with any Superb Song… S2CA Tri-burst!”

Then, as she often did, Hibiki punched.

A swirling vortex of pure phonic power roared upward, reaching into the very skies, and thousands of kilometers away, a great moth raised her head in concern.

The storm of song subsided, and still Hibiki stood, arm upraised. For a moment, all four of them were completely silent.

Then Hibiki screamed as a spike of golden crystal burst from her chest.

Chris instinctively started to run to her, but the heat emanating from her friend was like a physical barrier.

“Dumbass!” screamed Chris, “Take the Gear off!”

“I’m… trying!” Hibiki cried, even as she yanked one of the growths out of her skin, “But the power won’t stop!”

“What’s happening to her, dess?” Kirika gasped, backing away as Hibiki got even hotter.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think it’s good. Could this be the relic fusion that Mom told us about?”

Chris looked around wildly, hoping to find something in her line of sight to spark inspiration. Any way to cool Hibiki down, to get the Symphogear unequipped. If she couldn’t, her friend could die right here.

Then the answer came, but not in the form of an object, but a new song.

A song with no lyrics, but one that was still elegant, calming. Though she was still fully aware of the situation, Chris felt her anxiety start to almost melt away, as she sank into the song. Kirika and Shirabe visibly drooped as well, tension leaving their frames, but most affected was Hibiki.

Chris saw her best friend’s eyes roll back in her head, sudden unconsciousness claiming her, and worried for a moment that another heart attack had occurred, making her pass out from the pain. But when she didn’t pitch over face-first into the street, and instead slowly settled to her knees and then a lying position, Chris knew there was something else at work. With her consciousness cut off, Gungir vanished, replaced once again by Hibiki’s school clothes, though they were singed dark in places that touched her still-hot skin.

“What… the hell?”

Then, two voices sounded once again, this time speaking, in perfect unison.

“It seems we acted in time.”

Chris had never heard them before. But she knew who they were. Two voices speaking as one, appearing from nowhere, could only mean one thing.

She looked down, and found exactly the sight she had been expecting. Two young women, close to her age, their skin a rich brown with lighter markings- tattoos, perhaps- in places. They wore the garb of the Houtua tribe, and sported the evolutionary adaptation of mothlike antennae formed from their hair. Most striking of all, however, was that they appeared to be a scant ten inches high.

“Greetings, bearer of Ichaival,” they said, “We are Maina and Miana, Mothra’s priestesses. You may know us as-”

“Shobijin,” breathed Chris.

The pair nodded. “We sensed an abnormal outpouring of phonic energy and projected our consciousnesses to it in order to investigate. Upon noticing the wielder of Gungnir’s distress, we used our powers to make her fall asleep.”

“Thanks for your help,” Chris replied shortly as she rushed to Hibiki’s side and felt her. “Fever’s back, dammit.”

“We are sorry,” said the Shobijin, “That we cannot do more to help her. Removing the relic fragments from within her is beyond us, and perhaps even beyond Mothra herself.”

“Beyond Mothra?” Chris asked, eyeing Kirika and Shirabe as they kept their distance, “Didn’t she _make_ these things? Why can’t she destroy them?”

“It is, unfortunately, not so simple,” the Shobijin supplied. “The process would put your friend in grave danger, even if it were to be successful.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” grumbled Chris, before addressing the Blades of Zababa, “You two gonna come at me or not? I don’t have all day.”

“No,” said yet _another_ new voice, “I don’t think they will.”

And Dr. John Wayne Vercingetorix strolled onto the scene.

“Nobody here but you is in fighting shape,” Ver drawled, “And leaving the fusion girl isn’t in your best interests. What do you say we call this a draw?”

Chris considered her unconscious friend, draped around her shoulders. Considered the two exhausted wielders, the Shobijin, and Ver.

“This ain’t over,” Chris intoned, letting Ichaival fade back into her uniform. “I’ll show you that I don’t need this altruistic idiot to bail me out.”

Ver put a hand on Kirika and Shirabe’s shoulders. ‘I’m sure you will. Come along, girls. Your Mom’s worried about you. How was my LiNKER?”

Shirabe shrugged his hand off. “Worked fine.”

Kirika, on the other hand, said nothing, staring off at a point in the distance. Thinking, once again.

Thinking about the faint lattice of purple energy that had appeared in front of her and Shirabe earlier, warding off the extreme heat Hibiki had been emitting.

An ability attributed to Finé herself.

The recently-named Gigan rather liked this planet. He’d been to quite a few in his time, and no two were alike. This one was downright balmy compared to some of the places he’d visited, though the high concentration of beings as strong as him was a bit of a downside.

He especially liked this planet’s oceans. Simple salt-water, though not as pleasant as it should have been. Probably the natives polluting things, just as his creators once had. What a bunch of morons.

A bit of impromptu surgery(read: stabbing himself in the brain) on Gigan’s part had broken their control over him not long after he’d left their planet. He was supposed to be a colonizing machine, but he was really more like a tourist with destructive tendencies. Gigan liked to spread chaos; in the absence of a directive, that alone was his _modus operandi_.

It was a good life.

Right now, though, he was curious. Curious about something very abnormal he’d noticed during his first skirmish on Earth.

That strange blue armored creature. It smelled funny; almost like him, in fact. And there were two more of them stashed away somewhere underground, in part of this planet’s concerningly expansive tunnel system.

That was where Gigan was headed; to whatever part of those tunnels housed the creatures. He wanted to learn more about them, and what better way to do that than with a good fight? There would be no other creatures there, either. Just himself and the three machines, all far shorter and weaker than he.

Gigan let out a cackling screech of amusement as he swam ever closer to his goal.

“Captain Katsuragi, reporting,” Misato said quickly as soon as the doors had opened. “All Eva pilots are on standby at the cages. Where’s Gigan?”

“Still on approach,” Aoba supplied, “A few more turns and he’ll be in the sealed passage. No telling how long until he breaks down the natural barrier.”

“And how didn’t we notice that he was coming until he was basically in our backyard?” asked Misato, a little more testily.

“We haven’t figured out how to track it like we do most kaiju,” Maya provided, “It doesn’t give off signals like the others.”

“And have we confirmed,” sounded Gendo’s deep tones above, “That it is coming here?”

“There’s nothing else down here, Commander,” Misato pointed out. “Do we launch the Evas?”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Deploy Units 00, 01, and 02. We will turn this kaiju away.”

“Yes, sir.”

Shinji didn’t think he would ever really _enjoy_ piloting Unit-01. Everything about piloting grossed him out. He was no longer completely terrible at it thanks to extensive hours in the simulator, but that didn’t mean he had come to magically enjoy the experience. The uncomfortable form-fitting plugsuit, the bloody taste and smell of the LCL in his mouth and nose, and the awful sensation of sharing the Eva’s pain were all things he’d much prefer to never deal with again.

Right now, though, things were necessary. Moments ago, the wall of the Geofront had cracked, evidently the place where the outside tunnels had been sealed off. Compared to the cavern’s full size, it was a tiny area of the wall, but still more than large enough to admit a kaiju.

“So, wonder-girl,” Asuka drawled over their three-way channel, “Got any tips for beating this bad boy down?”

“I did not perform any sort of beatdown,” Rei replied with her usual lack of emotion, “I simply did my best to assist those who could, namely the Symphogear wielders. Their small size in comparison to him was, unlike in our case, a nonissue.”

“Our case?” Shinji piped up, “You mean this thing’s bigger than us?”

“Significantly,” Rei replied, even as she had Unit-00 do some stretches. “Estimates place it at one hundred and twenty meters. We stand at eighty-five.”

 _Comforting,_ thought Shinji. Then, “Do we have any advantage here?”

“We’re faster than it, I’d assume,” Asuka offered, “And being smaller _does_ make us harder to hit. We have to play this smart if we want a chance at killing this thing.”

“Killing it?” asked Shinji, “What do you think we’re dealing with here? This thing is taller than _Godzilla!_ ”

“Godzilla this, Godzilla that. He’s overhyped, if you ask me.”

“Have you fought him?” Shinji challenged.

“Have _you_ , idiot Shinji? Thought so.”

“I fought _Rodan,_ who’s not as strong as him. Didn’t go well.”

“Yeah, well you’re also the worst pilot here! Might explain a few things!” Asuka taunted.

“Both of you,” Rei said, “Quiet. He’s almost in.”

Shinji and Asuka, unused to being told what to do by their stoic peer, shut up out of shock alone. They turned to the wall, where, indeed, something strange was happening. The cracks from Gigan’s assault on the other side had steadily widened during their conversation, but now they seemed to be _glowing,_ lit from the other side by some eerie red shine.

“Back away,” cautioned Rei. With her having experience with the space monster, the other two Evas did so, their footsteps shaking the ground despite their relatively light tread.

The light grew more intense, now shining through in beams, almost like the laser effects at a concert. Then, when one of the beams scored a groove in the dirt, the teens realized that they were _literally_ lasers.

The wall burst outward all at once in a crimson flash, and from out of the dust cloud stepped a steel-taloned foot, balancing the biomechanical titan’s weight on his toes. With a triumphant, metallic screech, Gigan entered the Geofront.

“You know,” Asuka grimaced, “ _Hearing_ that something is a hundred and twenty meters tall and _seeing_ that something… they’re pretty different things, huh?”

Gigan looked down his beak at the three machines, quickly spotting the blue one. He made sure it could tell he was eyeing it, then waggled his restored scythe at it.

“H-hey, Ayanami, I thought he lost one of his blades?” Shinji stammered.

“Evidently,” Rei replied, hefting her pallet rifle, “His mechanical parts have regenerative properties.”

“Nanometal!” exclaimed Asuka. “It does exist!”

“This is not the time to nerd out, Asuka!” Shinji said as he mimicked Rei, taking aim at Gigan.

Asuka opted for her Prog Knife rather than the ranged weapons that the other two Units sported. “I _know_ you didn’t just accuse me of ‘nerding out’, idiot Shinji.”

Within NERV HQ, Misato and Ritsuko glanced at each other. “They’re being entirely too casual about this situation,” Ritsuko grumbled.

Misato shrugged, trying not to let any worry show. “They’re fourteen.”

Back out in the Geofront, Gigan kicked at Unit-02. Asuka weaved around the attack, which would have caught her Eva in the gut thanks to Gigan’s height, and stabbed at the space monster’s knee. She bit back several curses when the Prog Knife’s tip failed to penetrate, and left little more than a deep scratch on the armor plating.

“Okay, you two,” she said, taking charge, “Whatever this thing’s armor is made of, I don’t think we’re getting through. Go for the flesh.”

A storm of rounds from the pallet rifles went straight at his scaly neck, but Gigan seemed only annoyed by the attacks. His visor-eye flashed, and blood-red orbs of energy scattered from it, forcing all three Eva units to dodge around. One clipped Unit-01’s thigh, and Shinji stumbled. A scythe came down, ready to bisect the fighting machine.

Then Unit-02 jumped onto Gigan’s back, throwing all its weight into a mighty heave that upset Gigan’s balance. The guillotine of his scythe went wide and dug into the Geofront floor, prompting a frustrated shriek from the monster as his head rotated to bite at Asuka. She jumped forward off the cybernetic kaiju and hauled Shinji to his feet.

“Did you just-”

“Save your life? I may not like you much, but I’m not gonna let you just die out here. Now pull your own weight!”

They both narrowly dodged as Gigan’s free scythe slashed out at them. Not a moment later and the other one was out of the ground, still gleaming under the sun-like light of the mossy ceiling.

“Rifles and Prog Knives: ineffective,” Rei said. “Raw power: effective. We may be small, but we are strong. Pilots Sohryu, Ikari.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, wonder-girl!” Asuka responded, but nonetheless stowed her Prog Knife and balled Unit-02’s hands into fists. Beside her, Shinji did the same. 

Gigan took in the three of them, then clanked his scythes together a couple of times. It took a moment for all three pilots to realize that he had been sarcastically clapping for them. That immediately struck a nerve within Asuka.

“Bit of a wise guy, aren’t you?” she snarled, stepping away from Shinji to flank the titan. “You won’t be laughing when we send you back to space in a jumbo body bag.”

Gigan simply opened his toothed beak in a mimicry of a smile and lifted into the air. There was no flapping of wings or roaring of engines, so the whole process looked almost fake, staged with wires. Such was the power of his dark matter drives.

“Right,” Shinji remarked, “He flies.”

Then something absolutely none of them were expecting happened: hooked wires shot out from the base of one of his scythes, and before any of them could react, the cables had wrapped around Unit-00, the hooks secured in the Eva’s armor. 

“Ayanami!”  
“ _Scheisse_ , get outta there, wonder-girl!”

Rei strained against the cords. “Easier said than done-”

Then Gigan _really_ took flight, and Unit-00 was lifted from the ground, carried effortlessly into the air by Gigan’s silent propulsion.

“Grab the rifle!” Asuka screamed, and Shinji did just that, aiming directly at the cables wrapped around the blue Eva’s struggling form-

But then he hesitated for just a moment, wondering what would happen to Rei if he shot there. In that instant, Gigan rose to the ceiling and did an extremely sudden barrel roll, which had the effect of whipping Unit-00 up and slamming the mech directly into the roof of the cavern. They both heard Rei gasp in shock and pain over comms.

After another bizarrely acrobatic motion, Gigan retracted the cables, flinging Unit-00 away from himself at great speed. Nearly two miles of nothing but air were between Rei and the floor.

What was more, she was falling toward HQ.

“Raise the armor plate in section 3B,” Gendo said, calm as ever.

A ten-meter-thick wall of steel rose from the floor of the Geofront, extending upward until it was higher than the peak of HQ’s pyramid. When Unit-00 slammed into it, the metal dented inward, but did not break. The Eva, on the other hand, broke in several places before crumpling in a heap before the damaged barrier.

Gigan, still hovering high above, looked down, and a bright red beam of pure concentrated power streamed from his eye. Shinji ran, but Gigan simply turned his head, keeping the attack right on Shinji’s heels. When Asuka made for the unattended second pallet rifle, the space monster’s gaze swiveled, and the superheated laser melted the weapon to nothing long before Asuka reached it.

“Camping’s a valid strategy, but that doesn’t make it less of a bitch move,” Asuka grumbled, then beelined for Unit-01. “Hey, idiot Shinji!”

“Eh?” Shinji said, more than a little overwhelmed.

“Gimme a boost!”

Shinji was thankful for the warning in advance, as it gave him plenty of time to take a knee and form a platform with his Eva’s hands. Unit-02’s pounding footsteps shook the ground as Asuka drew closer, before finally stepping into Shinji’s waiting hands.

He _wrenched_ the control yokes just as Asuka did the same in a different direction, combining his Eva’s arm strength with her Eva’s leg strength to throw her.

Asuka broke the sound barrier as she rocketed up to Gigan’s height.

“Surprise!” she screamed, pirouetteing midair, and then kicked Gigan right in the side of the head. Satisfyingly, she watched the armor dent in and the skin split, spouting forest-green blood.

Gigan screeched, and they both began to fall.

“You better catch me, you idiooooot!”

Shinji was thankful yet again, this time for his short stint on a youth baseball team, as he tried to track her Eva’s form high above and get under where she was going to land. He was pretty sure he had pinpointed it and was starting to run to the spot when she landed on top of him, sending both of them to the floor in a heap.

“I said _catch_ me,” Asuka groaned.

“I did,” Shinji replied, hand off the yokes to nurse his throbbing shoulder. 

“With your body, sure,” replied Asuka, getting to her feet. “Did I get him?”

A kilometer or so away, the cybernetic titan rose to his digitigrade feet, shaking his head from side to side, and then turned to look at her.

Red wisps of smoke curled from his cracked visor, and there was a visible crater in the side of his head, leaking blood, smoke, and what Asuka assumed was some kind of oil.

Then shivers ran down her spine as the dent bubbled outward, inverted completely, before settling back into its original shape as both flesh and mechanical parts repaired themselves.

“Fine,” Asuka spat, hiding her fear with bravado as usual, “Guess I’ll need to hit harder to get that through your skull, won’t I?”

Unit-02’s fists clenched as Asuka marched up to the gigantic alien, footsteps shaking the ground.

She stood in front of Gigan, glaring up over their height gap into his eye. Shinji, still struggling to his feet after bearing the brunt of Asuka’s landing, watched it all.

He watched as Asuka bobbed and weaved around the much larger monster, punching and kicking with the grace of a trained martial artist but the force of a kaiju. 

He watched Gigan’s armor and scales absorb each blow, sometimes damaged in the process but always healing, meaning all Asuka got out of it was damaged fists. He watched every one of Gigan’s attacks strike out at Asuka, infinitely more dangerous than anything she was throwing at him, but all missing.

Then, showcasing some burst mobility, he dodged a hook by lifting off from the ground, and at last one of his own attacks hit, a strike with the flat of the scythe, sending Asuka to all fours. Gigan landed right beside her before she could climb to her feet and kicked her Eva hard in the side. Shinji heard ribs snap, followed by Asuka’s scream as she shared the mech’s pain.

“Asuka!” Shinji screamed, finally starting toward them even as Gigan viciously stomped down on Unit-02’s chest, the pressure barely offset by the weapon’s straining arms.

Gigan heard him coming and turned to look, leering with that single visor-eye as Shinji approached. The cold glare nearly stopped him in his tracks even as the monster’s prehensile, sharp-tipped tail sank into Unit-02’s shoulder, LCL leaking from the damaged spot.

Gigan’s head tilted as he lifted Asuka into the air with the strength in his tail alone, even as she screamed from the Eva’s own weight pulling the stab wounds open. Gigan opened his beak and screeched a challenge, waving his scythes around, goading Shinji.

The young boy was dimly aware that he was having a panic attack. The sounds all blended together in his brain. Asuka’s screams, Gigan’s part-digital shrieks, Misato’s yells, and his own heart in his ears overrode rational thought, removed his fine motor skills.

One coherent thought, repeating over and over in his mind as he tried to force himself to move.

_I mustn’t run away. I mustn’t run away. I mustn’t run away. I mustn’t run away. I mustn’t run away. I mustn’t run away. I mustn’t run away. I mustn’t run away. I mustn’t run away. I mustn’t-_

He was moving before he noticed it. Screaming like an animal as he charged Gigan, swinging a fist at that smug metal beak with all the force Unit-01 could muster and then some.

His fist found its mark, but with very little impact, and also no longer attached to his arm.

Eyes wide, Shinji stared at the gushing stump where Eva's hand used to be. At one of Gigan’s scythes, coated with LCL.

A scream built in his throat, but before it could leave, an armored knee slammed into Unit-01’s gut, forcing his own diaphragm to contract and expel the oxygen-rich LCL from his lungs.

Before he could even gasp, the other scythe’s flat came down on the top of Unit-01’s head, dazing him further, and he felt the end of the tail wrap around his throat. He fought purely on survival instinct, grasping at the tail with his remaining hand as it choked his Eva, lifting him off his feet with almost no strength in his limbs.

They were eye level for a moment; just a moment.

Then a silver flash, the glint of alien metal reflecting the light, and a horrible, blinding pain from his chin to his scalp.

Then, blissful nothingness.

Silence in the command center.

Nobody dared speak. They simply stared at the image on the big screen at the room’s front, horror etched into every line of their faces. All except for Gendo Ikari, who remained impassive, at least outwardly.

The image they saw was of Gigan and Unit-01. The purple mech suspended by the neck, hanging limp in the alien kaiju’s grasp. 

Protruding from its helmet armor, the tip of a scythelike blade. The base of that same scythe, just below the machine’s jaw.

The blade had gone all the way through Unit-01’s skull. If the Entry Plug were in its head, like most mecha cockpits, Shinji would be pulp.

Just because Gigan hadn’t stabbed the weapon’s core didn’t mean Shinji was safe, though.

“Please tell me you desynced them in time,” Misato whispered. “If he was still connected to the Eva when that happened, the shock would have-”

“Shut down his brain, I know,” Hyuga said. “Pulling up his vitals now.”

When the readout appeared, Misato found that she couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

“What…” she gasped, “What does any of this mean? It doesn’t make any sense!”

“It’s impossible, is what it is,” Ibuki said tersely, “These aren’t the vitals of a living or dead person. It’s like he’s not even in the Entry Plug anymore.”

“Sync rate is rising!” Aoba reported, sounding stunned. “Over seventy percent!”

Above them all, Gendo finally showed a bit of emotion, hidden behind his tented hands.

He smiled.

“Let’s begin,” he whispered, “The experiment.”

Outside, Gigan almost shrieked when a purple-armored hand grabbed his arm. The machine’s eyes lit up again, glaring into his own as the thing’s grip started to strain his metal bones. Gigan released his hold on it with his tail and yanked his scythe out of its head, prompting a veritable flood of LCL to pour out of the newly made hole. The force of the stab had badly damaged the armor on Unit-01’s head, but Gigan was entirely confused. How could it still be functioning?

He backed away, fear flickering in his biomechanical brain.

Below, Unit-01 supported itself on its remaining hand as the gush of blood from its head wound slowed to a stop. It rose to its feet then, reaching up to its damaged helmet.

To Gigan’s shock, it hooked a finger in one broken portion and pulled, tearing the helmet in half.

What that revealed, Gigan had suspected from the start.

Hidden behind the artificial visage was a mouth, filled with almost human-like teeth.

The white glow in the Evangelion’s eyes suddenly changed, burning a faint reddish-orange.

Then, the move that shocked every conscious occupant of the Geofront, human or otherwise.

It lifted its stump of an arm high and tensed.

One fountain of LCL later, there was a brand new arm there. An arm devoid of metal plating; an arm so very like a human arm in shape, dark in color yet tipped with… claws?

Evangelion Unit-01, now sporting both arms, slouched forward, shoulders heaving with effort as Gigan continued to back warily away, putting a safe distance between himself and this…

Abomination.

Unit-01 fixed the cybernetic kaiju in her furious gaze, opened her newly-freed mouth, and made a noise.

It sounded for all the world like a woman’s scream.

**CHAPTER XIII: Defeat Is No Option**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for posting late again. I'll do my best to have 14 out by Tuesday. This chapter sure does a tonal shift, huh? By the way, if there's confusion about Chris's year at Lydian, the adjusted ages for the Symphogear wielders are as follows: Hibiki(17), Chris(18), Tsubasa(19), Maria(22). Essentially, they're at their XV ages while G's plotline occurs. The Zababies' ages are unadjusted from canon G, however.  
> Thank you for reading and commenting, should you choose to. Stay safe and stay healthy.


	14. CHAPTER XIV: (Un)certain Futures

_ Besides their size and durability, one must note the healing factor of kaiju as among their most impressive abilities. They go beyond anything seen in nature. Of course, many animals are capable of regrowing limbs or organs that may be lost, but this process often takes time. In the case of kaiju, entire limbs may return in a matter of minutes, though the speed of the regeneration varies from one kaiju to the next. Most fascinating are some kaiju who demonstrate the capability to regenerate from a state of what is technically death, such as the Gargantua twins. Gojira, as we have discovered last year, has shown the ability to regenerate from little more than bones. Due to this, we must assume that the cells making up his bones were not only living post-O2D, but well-nourished enough by the nearby radiation to begin rapid mitosis. This would explain the creature’s apparently increased size. It also raises the question of what exactly death means to these creatures. Gojira could very well be biologically immortal. _

**Classified transcripted segment of a speech by Dr. Ishiro Serizawa to MONARCH heads of staff, circa 1985.**

  
  


**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


Shinji’s first thought upon waking wasn’t actually a thought, but something closer to an overwhelming desire to go back to sleep. All he knew for the first few moments was pain, pain in every inch of his body but especially his head, behind his eyes. The bright lights in the ceiling weren’t helping matters, even with Shinji squeezing his eyelids shut. 

He ground the heel of his hand into his forehead, groaning in discomfort as he gradually cracked his eyes open bit by bit until the lights weren’t driving daggers into his brain. With a sigh, Shinji let his arm fall back onto the sheets, still trying to get his bearings. Then, a voice from a few feet away, quiet and emotionless, but gentle all the same.

“Good afternoon, Ikari-kun.”

Shinji had to turn his head slowly in order for it not to explode, but eventually she entered his line of sight, sitting surprisingly nonchalantly in a chair, with a book resting on her leg.

“Ayanami,” croaked Shinji, “What happened? How long have I been asleep?”

“Two days, and as for what occurred, you very nearly died,” she replied, “In fact, the commander and the others still are not certain of how you survived.”

Shinji rubbed at his jaw, where he had  _ felt  _ Gigan’s scythe pierce him. “I could’ve told you that, I was there. I mean what happened… after that.”

“Would you like to see the footage?” Rei asked, “Or would you prefer me to describe it?”

Shinji shook his head. “I need to see. What I felt after I passed out… while whatever was happening happened… it was so strange.”

“The readouts of your brain activity were purportedly quite strange,” Rei said with a nod, fishing in her pocket, “I would not know, as I was unconscious at the time.”

“Are you okay?” Shinji asked, trying to be polite.

“Thank you for your concern, Ikari-kun,” replied the bluenette, “But you ought to worry for yourself.”

Shinji ignored her. “What about Asuka?”

“Her Evangelion’s damage was not reflected onto her,” Rei said, “Due to the injuries inflicted being mostly superficial. She departed the hospital after a dose of painkillers.”

“I could use some of those right now,” grumbled Shinji.

“You are already on a considerable dose of a rather different variety of painkiller, Ikari-kun,” remarked Rei, “Applying more would likely put you to sleep for another day.”

“They’re that strong but everything still hurts?”

“In fairness to the good doctor, Ikari-kun, your case is a medical first. That’s why the commander had her give you some farolacton juice with your dose.”

Shinji’s brow furrowed. “Farolacton? You mean soma from Skull Island?”

“Farolacton is the scientific term for the berries, but yes.”

“I thought that stuff was almost impossible to get your hands on!”

Rei tilted her head, regarding him. “It is. However, you are a very important person, Ikari-kun. Your speedy recovery is NERV’s top priority at the moment.”

“Now he decides to care that much,” scoffed Shinji, “I don’t understand him. Asshole.”

Rei frowned slightly. “You shouldn’t talk about your father that way.”

“How else should I talk about him? He’s never been there for me, and now he only is because he needs me to pilot his big robot.”

“Were you in better condition,” said Rei, placing the NERV-issue smartphone in his lap, “I might be more upset at you. That is the video recording of your battle. You may play it whenever you’re ready.”

Shinji gulped and tapped Play.

The video started off with what he really hadn’t wanted to see; Gigan’s scythe piercing Unit-01’s head, its arms and legs going limp. That had been where he had passed out, before stepping into some bizarre mindscape.

What he saw happen next did not explain the strange dreams he’d had, but it was equally horrifying.

He watched Unit-01 move without his control. Watched it reveal its mouth, regrow an arm of flesh and bone, and howl at Gigan as the space monster retreated preemptively.

“What the hell?” he whispered.

Onscreen, Unit-01 charged its foe with speed and ferocity that Shinji had never demonstrated while piloting, that unearthly howl continuing all the way. Gigan, for his part, stood his ground. When Unit-01 lifted both fists to slam down onto him, the space monster simply sidestepped, but did not try to punish the missed blow. It was as though he was feeling out the Evangelion’s abilities.

Unit-01 went after him like a rabid animal, swiping wildy with its newly grown, clawed hand, and ripping through nothing but air as Gigan practically danced around it, working hard to completely remove the possibility of an attack connecting.

When the Eva tried a punch with its still-armored hand that created a crater in the floor, Gigan decided he’d seen enough and lifted into the air, retreating.

He was near the ceiling(the camera had swiveled to track him), Unit-01 suddenly burst into frame, evidently having jumped with astonishing force. It grabbed onto Gigan’s tail, sinking its fingers in for a better grip, and Gigan thrashed and rolled in midair to get it off. After a short struggle, the cybernetic kaiju’s tail suddenly came off, and it and Unit-01 fell about halfway to the Geofront floor before the appendage exploded with the force of a sizable bomb.

Unit-01 fell out of the blast looking none the worse for wear as Gigan tore into the ceiling, tunneling to the surface.

Unit-01 tried jumping several more times, but couldn’t make the height. Shinji grew more and more unsettled as its fury mounted, expressed in louder screams and maddened thrashing.

Then, suddenly, the footage cut out.

Shinji blinked.

“Huh?”

“What is it, Ikari-kun?” asked Rei.

“That’s it? How did they calm it down? No, scratch that, why the hell was it… what  _ is  _ it?”

“What do you think it is?”

Shinji looked at her. Her strange red eyes had taken on an unfamiliar intensity.

“It’s… it’s a living thing. There’s something trapped under all that armor. Isn’t there?”

Rei tilted her head again, mulling over his words. “I do not know all that much about them, but you have the correct idea, Ikari-kun. The Evangelion Units are not machines, but living creatures with certain technological implants.”

Shinji was white as a sheet. “What… kind of creatures? What have I been… oh God I’ve been  _ inside  _ it, inside its  _ spine…” _

“I don’t know, Ikari-kun,” Rei admitted. “I’m not even certain if they are truly alive, though Unit-01’s rampage seems to suggest that they are capable of thought. Until we learn more, perhaps you should simply think of them as organic weapons.”

“How can you say that?!” Shinji almost screamed, throwing the bedsheet aside in sudden anger. “How can you just accept that we’re piloting  _ living things  _ against other living things?! You’re using a life as nothing but a tool!”

“Is that not how things have always been? Animals have killed and eaten other animals to survive since the dawn of life, and humans have been using beasts of burden for millennia. This is hardly different.”

“Rei, that is a  _ kaiju,  _ shaped like a  _ human! _ ” said Shinji, “That’s the only kind of creature on this planet that could make the Evas as big and durable as they are, and  _ every single kaiju  _ has documented sapience! It’s like piloting a person!”

Rei narrowed her eyes, but in contemplation rather than annoyance. “Yet, Eva-01 did not display such a thing. It flailed around like a cornered animal, raging territorially against its opponent. What about its behavior suggests human-level intelligence?”

Shinji had no proper counter, but continued anyway, “Does it matter? Whatever they did to them to make them pilotable had to be painful and cruel. How can you justify that?!”

“I cannot,” Rei conceded, “Just as I cannot justify the millions of deaths that have occurred at the hands of kaiju. Are we to just sit back and allow that to happen all over again? As it stands, the Evas are the most effective weapons possible against kaiju, at least in theory. Neither you, nor Asuka, nor I have been able to use their full potential yet.”

“What’s your point,” Shinji asked through gritted teeth.

“If we want to survive in this world of monsters, it may be necessary to become monsters ourselves. Dr. Daisuke Serizawa-”

Shinji cut her off, “-called himself a monster after he accidentally created the oxygen destroyer. I know. Do you recall that he destroyed all of his research and killed himself with it to ensure that nobody else would make one?”

“He did,” said Rei, “He also killed Godzilla, though that didn’t last. Imagine the first Age’s death toll had Godzilla been around during those forty years, Ikari-kun. How many people’s lives did Serizawa save by becoming a monster?”

Shinji was silent.

“I can accept,” Rei continued, “Becoming a monster. Using a living thing as a weapon, being used myself as a tool to wield it. Because fending off the kaiju saves people, Ikari-kun. We are monsters, so that everyone else can continue their lives as people.”

“I don’t want to be a part of that,” whispered Shinji.

“Then you should leave,” Rei said simply. There was not even a hint of malice in her words, just advice. “Turn back now, and depart with your humanity intact. But know that your departure will put innocent lives at risk.”

“You think I’m a coward.”

“I think you’re a good person,” said Rei. “But doing what we must do, in the most effective manner, goes against that. There is no right or wrong answer to your problem.”

“I have a choice,” he murmured. Then Shinji stiffened as a hand touched his head, Rei’s fingers running through his short hair.

“You do,” Rei answered, softly, “Without the necessary time to make it. I am… not good with people, Ikari-kun. But I wish you luck.” 

She left without another word, leaving Shinji with ruffled hair and the slightest, strangest sense of comfort.

Red sand.

It was all Vivienne Graham had known for a year. Endless stretches of oxidized soil and ruddy rock beneath a pale sky. The Martian landscape was beautiful, but also hauntingly empty and hostile. Looking at it, living in it, it was almost impossible to believe that civilization had once called the Red Planet home.

That same red sand, the ashes of a world made dead, dominated her dreams. Whether they were pleasant or nightmarish, nearly all of her REM time was dedicated to visions of Mars. Sometimes she would discover expansive ruins rich in Martian history(and she was always disappointed that her subconscious came up with more interesting information than what they’d actually found), and sometimes her sleeping brain would offer her a horrible nightmare of her EVA(Extra-Vehicular Activity) suit popping, running out of air, or otherwise malfunctioning, and she’d bolt awake in a cold sweat, breathing heavily as though she were suffocating in the real.

This dream was new, though. It shared the common thread of red sand, at the least, but things were odd.

Martian sunsets were blue. She’d seen several, and they were breathtaking in their own way. The sunset this dream offered her, however, was red and very Earthlike. 

It was also raining.

_ It doesn’t rain on Mars,  _ thought Vivienne. 

It was coming down hard, too, drumming on the top of her suit’s helmet and rapidly turning the sand to mud. The world had once had a water cycle, this had been known even before humanity deigned to explore the planet in person, but little was known about what it might have been like. Vivienne thought her brain was being rather unimaginative.

Then she realized something; she was aware that she was in a dream. Lucid. That meant she should have control of it, right?

And yet, she found that she could not move. She could lift her feet to turn her body, but she was rooted to this spot of Mars’ empty red desert, and that begged the question of whether this was actually a dream. Was it a vision of the future, of Mars reborn as a habitable world? A vision of the past, of the Red Planet’s final years before its demise?

Vivienne had never had visions before, and was fairly certain that no blood of Mu flowed in her veins, so where had this come from? 

There was one other possibility, she realized.

A memory.

She turned, and found the storm was more intense behind her. The thick, dark clouds roiled as they swept toward her, overtaking the sky.

Pale yellow lightning bolts forked down from them, fusing sand to glass. The rain grew heavier and the lightning more frequent as the tempest approached Vivienne.

Then she saw it, illuminated by a bright yellow flash of sheet lightning deep within the clouds.

A colossal shadow.

Wings that spanned the heavens.

The lightning flashed again, and it was bigger, closer. She became aware of a ringing in her ears, only it wasn’t the whine of tinnitus but rather a chorus of strange sounds, almost like a bell but ancient, alien, incomprehensible.

The shadow’s wing tips pierced the bottom of the clouds as it descended.

Voices joined the bells in her head, whispering and screaming at the same time, stamping words on her psyche. They were not in any language she could speak yet she recognized them, gained their meaning, all the same.

_ Deathsong _

_ One yet many _

_ Planet eater _

They reached a fever pitch, chanting faster and faster as the thing approached and the lightning and thunder crashed and the rain poured from the churning clouds in sheets and Vivienne clawed at her own head barely realizing that her EVA suit had vanished and she was fully exposed to the elements and to that  _ thing  _ no not a thing a  _ God,  _ a

**_King_ **

Vivienne woke up.

No scream escaped her throat, but there was a gasp, a shuddering exhalation of fear as she sat up and her eyes flew open to take in the dark. The sleeping quarters’ shutters weren’t lifted to let the sunlight in yet, so all she got was pitch black. As her eyes adjusted, though, the dim lights on the floor and walls came into view, intended to flash in the event of emergency.

“What was that?” Vivienne whispered to herself, so as not to wake her colleagues sleeping nearby. “It couldn’t have been a dream, but if it’s a memory, where did it come from? We never found any Martian… remains…”

She trailed off as she recalled a day off, when she’d visited the research site on the ice cap. How they’d warned her of the magnetic field. How she’d gotten a headache, but kept it to herself.

Could it have been capable of such a thing? Of converting memory to an electrical signal, and imprinting it on the brain of another?

More importantly, why  _ that  _ memory? And why  _ her?  _ What was the creature in the ice trying to tell her?

Vivienne grabbed her tablet from the bedside table and pulled up the data on the frozen kaiju. As she knew, there wasn’t much of it due to the general inaccessibility of the beast. But perhaps what there was could give her a clue.

The only things possibly pertaining to her dream were its age and size; both speculative. And neither made sense with what Vivienne knew, and what she had just seen. 

They now knew the end of life on Mars to have occurred roughly ten thousand years ago. That hardly matched up with the creature’s apparent age of nearly one  _ billion  _ years. If it was so mighty as to wipe out life on the planet, why would it do so after such a long amount of life lived? 

And, perhaps more concerningly, the sizes didn’t match. Vivienne was a kaijuologist by profession, though linguistics was her secondary talent. She had worked with monsters her whole career, and considered herself a fair judge of size.

The apparent size of this creature, based on what they could see of it from the surface, significantly eclipsed what Vivienne had seen, though the monster in her dream/vision/memory was of formidable stature. Were they perhaps separate creatures, a larger and smaller individual? That seemed likely. There was no reason for Martian kaiju not to possess sexual dimorphism.

Then she had a far more chilling, intrusive thought.

What if they were in fact the same beast, and it had simply continued growing since the end of Mars?

Vivienne opened a file and began to type.

She had a new side project.

They say that hindsight is 20/20. Mako Mori, newly minted Ranger, was beginning to understand why. Her father had kept her from becoming a Jaeger pilot to keep her safe, and after just two sorties in Gipsy Danger, she had realized his reasons. 

Gipsy, a refurbished Mark III, was meant to be capable of taking on true kaiju, armored to withstand blows from the mightiest forces on the planet and equipped to damage them in retaliation. As a result, normal Breachers had become little more than cannon fodder before its might.

When she imagined fighting the Breachers in a non-upgraded Jaeger, she ceased to envy the pilots of the Program’s early days.

Seeing those days through Raleigh’s memories bolstered her newfound outlook on things.

However, what stood before them off the coast of Hong Kong was no normal breacher. It was a Category Four, a strange and colossal thing with four spindly legs and a multitude of eyes which “cried” the acidic Breacher Blue. The naming algorithm had assigned it “Matarael”, and Mako supposed such a biblical name was appropriate for such an eldritch entity.

“I don’t remember them being this weird-looking,” Raleigh remarked next to her, speaking aloud instead of through their neural link. “The ones Yancy and I ran into just looked like messed-up animals.”

“Well, this does resemble a harvestman,” Mako remarked as she joined her co-pilot in clenching and unclenching Gipsy’s fists.

The Breacher let out a gurgling cry and raised one of its four twiglike limbs free of the shallow water, revealing a two-clawed foot at the end. The claws didn’t look long enough to pierce Gipsy’s armor, which was good, but the creature was large and undoubtedly heavy. If it got a good grip on them, things could sour quickly.

“Raleigh,” Mako said to get his attention as she pushed an idea into the drift. Her fellow pilot smiled and mentally accepted it, giving her the go-ahead.

Mako, controlling the Jaeger’s left arm, pressed a button with her free right hand to deploy the chain sword. It emerged link-by-link from Gipsy’s wrist, great bladed links the size of cars joined by an ultra-tensile cable. They weren’t after its function as a whip, though, and with another button press, the cable partially retracted, bringing the links together to form one long, unbroken sword. The Jaeger hadn’t had anything like this years ago.

Their mental link transmitted Raleigh’s experience with insectoid Breachers, instructing her to go for the joints.

They moved as one, their combined minds pushing the Jaeger forward as fluidly as a living thing. Colossal gears and mechanical muscle fibers moved within, allowing a perfect replication of the human walk cycle on a much greater scale. 

Matarael’s leg came down, swinging its bulbous body forward. The beast’s bioluminescent blood splashed outward from its enormous eyes, sizzling through the air, and Gipsy placed its free arm in the path of the acidic spray. That successfully defended the Conn Pod from the attack, so Gipsy raised the sword and slashed up at Matarael’s knee, above their heads.

They made contact, but unfortunately did not succeed in severing the limb. Matarael let out a cry of pain nonetheless and swung its body forward again, this time aiming to directly impact Gipsy.

_ Brace  _ echoed through the drift, and then Matarael slammed right into their chest.

The Breacher had inadvertently given them an opportunity, and sealed its own doom.

Gipsy’s free hand suddenly grabbed it and held its body there even as it tried to pull away. The Jaeger sunk a few fingers into one of the monster’s many eyes for greater purchase even as Mako and Raleigh, in the Conn Pod, activated a certain risky function in unison.

Gipsy’s chest turbine drew directly on its reactor core and directed a sudden jet of superheated atomic waste directly into Matarael’s “face”.

The effect was immediate at point-blank range, and after only a moment of sustained eruption, the flame had bored through its exoskeleton and every one of the Breacher’s eyes had burst into a bubbling slop that dripped to the waters below as it let out a quiet, fading screech. Above Gipsy’s head height, Matarael’s knees relaxed and its legs went limp in its final moments.

“What a mess,” Raleigh remarked, still maintaining their grip on its head as Mako retracted the chain sword.

“I would almost feel bad if these things had any mental capacity beyond ‘kill whatever moves’,” replied Mako. “Should we cauterize?”

“Oh, absolutely. Look at this thing, it’s like a blueberry.”

Kilometers away, in Hong Kong Shatterdome’s LOCCENT, Stacker Pentecost sighed.

“Being a bit cavalier about this, aren’t they?” Tendo muttered.

“They’ve gotten cocky,” Stacker confirmed with a nod. “Not a surprise considering Gipsy is the equivalent of a Mark VI, but that’ll be no good for them if they carry it into a fight with a real kaiju.”

“Lucky this place is only a hotspot for Breachers. Only thing that could give them trouble is a theoretical Cat Five.”

Stacker didn’t meet Tendo’s eyes.

“Marshal?”

Stacker sighed again, rubbing at his eyes. “They’re being transferred to Tokyo. Switching with Striker Eureka. They want to put the Mark V and VIs on rotation through the domes, with Tokyo being the highest priority, hence it gets at least two.”

“I get it, considering whose stomping grounds Japan is,” Tendo conceded, “But are you okay with letting Mako go?”

“It’s certainly not an easy decision,” confided the Marshal, “But Hong Kong needs me here. Fighting the Breachers is our war. I’ve taken the first step in allowing her to be a Ranger. The next step is to let her act independently from me.”

“And you trust Raleigh to keep an eye on her?” 

“I’ve been in his mind,” Stacker answered. “I know he’s a good man. They’ve drifted now, too. That means they may as well be lifelong friends. They’ll make a powerful line of defense under Aso’s leadership.”

“Do you think they can handle the big threats, though?” Tendo asked.

“Not by themselves, but they’re  _ not  _ by themselves. Ikari and Kazanari have their forces as well. There’s nowhere more dangerous than Japan during an Age of Monsters, but there’s also nowhere more well-defended.”

When Raleigh and Mako reported to LOCCENT after thoroughly charring Matarael’s corpse, Stacker informed them of their imminent transfer.

“I’m going home, then,” Mako said.

“That’s right,” replied Stacker, “And you now have the chance to defend it yourself. I hope both of you will continue training and working on improving further in the simulator.”

“Yessir,” Raleigh and Mako replied.

“And, perhaps most importantly, I wish you luck in the coming battles. It’s not a matter of  _ if  _ you will encounter a true kaiju up there, but a matter of  _ when. _ ”

Even hardened Raleigh and optimistic Mako felt chills run through them at that, because both of them thought of the same creature, even though their minds were separate at the moment.

Both of them envisioned one hundred and five meters of charcoal scales. They imagined pale maple-leaf spines, eyes like hot coals, and star-fire breath.

“You leave tomorrow morning,” Marshal Pentecost said in a low tone. “Get packing, you two. It’s been an honor.”

Mako dipped into a short bow that Raleigh mimicked. “The honor is ours,  _ sensei _ .”

Hibiki didn’t like house arrest much.

Having Miku there helped alleviate the otherwise-extreme boredom, but her sunshine couldn’t be there every hour of the day. School was still on, after all. Even if Hibiki had to stay home and have her work brought to her, Miku couldn’t be missing classes. She’d offered to, sweetheart that she was, but Hibiki had insisted she not worry about her. As such, Hibiki had a lot of time to herself, and she’d spent it thinking(instead of doing her work). Sometimes she thought about profound things, like her own sudden mortality, or why kaiju destroyed cities, and sometimes she pondered whether it was a good idea to have a snack only an hour before dinner.

She thought about Maria, Kirika, and Shirabe. About the latter’s accusation of her being a hypocrite. Those words from the young girl still stung every time Hibiki remembered them, but after a fair bit of introspection, she was beginning to see Shirabe’s point. Wasn’t violence the antithesis to her ideal of communication?

“But I can’t communicate with everything,” Hibiki groaned, cheek flat against her desk as she stared at the door. “The little guys are just animals, and the big ones can’t talk even if they are smart. How am I supposed to get their attention if they won’t even listen?”

Her mumbling and musing went on for a little while until the door opened to admit Miku, carrying Hibiki’s work for the day.

“Mikuuuu,” she groaned, “Why don’t words work?”

Miku rolled her eyes and crossed the room with a smile to ruffle Hibiki’s hair. “You’ll have to be a bit more specific, Hibiki.”

“People,” sighed Hibiki, “Just don’t want to talk things out. And by ‘people’ I don’t just mean people, I mean kaiju too. Godzilla was so rude to me, he didn’t even bother listening to a word I said.”

“How do you know, if you can’t understand him?” Miku responded, placing Hibiki’s assignments next to her head.

“Well, that’s…” Hibiki trailed off. “Huh.”

“Communication is a two-way street, Hibiki,” Miku reminded her. “You’ve got to be good at listening to the other person, too. You got lucky on that with Chris. Evidently Godzilla is a tougher nut to crack.”

“How am I supposed to communicate properly with a giant lizard thing who can’t talk and probably will try to kill me?” groaned the Gungnir wielder.

“No use worrying about it until we get your chest fixed, Hibiki,” Miku reminded her, “You’re not going anywhere near a kaiju until that happens. I’ll make sure of that.”

“But Mikuuuu,” Hibiki whined.

“Don’t ‘but Miku’ me, young lady,” Miku replied, waggling a finger, “If something happens, you let Chris or Tsubasa take care of it.”

“What if someone in front of me is in danger?!”

“Hibiki!” Miku cried, clapping her hands together for emphasis, “You. Are. Dying. If you put on your Gear, you will die faster. You might save that one person, but then Gungnir might finally finish you off. You’ll have saved that person, but will never help anyone again.”

Hibiki frowned. It made sense. Her logic worked perfectly, but that was why she didn’t like it.

“Save  _ yourself _ for now. Get better, and save a whole bunch more people once you are. Okay?”

Hibiki lifted her head. “Okay. It might not seem like it, but I don’t exactly want to die.”

“I don’t think anyone wants you to die, Hibiki,” replied Miku. “I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you weren’t around.”

“Me neither,” Hibiki said, slinging an arm around her best friend’s shoulder. “You’re my place to come home to, remember?”

Miku nodded. “I remember. I’m glad you’re making the right choice, Hibiki.”

“Did you expect anything less?”

“You’re kind of an airhead sometimes, so I had to be sure.”

Hibiki let out an exaggerated gasp of offense. “Me, an airhead? How dare you.”

“You’re right, that was mean of me. How can I make it up to you?” asked Miku.

“You could let me leave the dorm,” Hibiki pouted. “I’m wasting away in here.”

Miku placed a hand on her chin, contemplating. The house arrest wasn’t ironclad; Genjuro wasn’t that sort of guy. He’d just instructed Miku to keep Hibiki out of trouble.

“How about a date tomorrow?” Miku suggested, barely concealing a blush at her phrasing.

“Sure! Where to?”

Miku thought some more. Flower for its okonomiyaki could be nice, but they also ate there rather often. What would be an interesting change of pace while Hibiki was out of the house?

Miku jumped, startling Hibiki’s arm off her as she had a brilliant idea and turned to meet her shining sun’s warm eyes.

“How about the Skytree?”

**CHAPTER XIV: (Un)certain Futures**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'll have 14 out by Tuesday," he says. Writing is a bitch sometimes. The brain juice flows sometimes, and sometimes it doesn't. Not a whole lot happening here except setup and hints for goings-on down the line. I'm pretty sure any Godzilla fan reading this has already figured out who I'm setting up for way later(I refuse to speak His name until the time comes).  
> Thanks for reading and commenting. Love yall.


	15. CHAPTER XV: Eclipsed

_Kaiju are not united. This is perhaps the one advantage we have over them: they do not work together to attack us. They appear at random to wreak their destruction, and on rare occasions when two appeared at once, each incidence resulted in the two kaiju ignoring us and instead doing battle with each other. Their spats still caused massive damage and casualties, but they ceased their direct assaults on humans. It would seem that these living gods have prejudices or even rivalries amongst each other, which take priority over cleansing Earth of the human race. This may be due to said rivalries predating_ homo sapiens _by many millions of years…_

**From** **_The Half-Century War_ ** **, autobiography of Lt. Oka Murakami.**

  
  


**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


“Oi, Vercingetorix.” Jonah rudely announced his entrance, barging into the cramped mini-laboratory that also served as Dr. Ver’s living quarters.

“What do you want, old man?” Ver grumbled, “I’m a little busy at the moment.”

Jonah snorted. “Doing what? Daydreaming about holding hands and singing kumbayah with Godzilla?”

“Making LiNKER for the people who comprise our entire fighting force,” retaliated the scientist, “Or did you forget that everything about our operation hinges on me?”

“Does it now,” Jonah deadpanned.

“Only I have the knowledge and technical skills to work the Symphogears,” Ver bragged, “Only I can make LiNKER and Dr. Nastassja’s medicine from the same limited batch of Godzilla cells, and only _I_ figured out how to artificially mimic the bioacoustics of kaiju.”

“Yes, yes, most impressive,” replied the eco-terrorist, trying to speed things along.

“Exactly! Where would this operation be without my massive brain?”

“Massive though your brain may be,” Jonah growled, “Don’t let your head get too big. This operation hasn’t exactly borne fruit yet.”

Ver frowned. “We’re working with forces as unpredictable and destructive as earthquakes. The kaiju don’t seem nearly as enthusiastic about wiping out the human race anymore, and we’d be hard-pressed to give them that resolve back.”

“Would we?” Jonah asked out of the blue.

“I’ve told you,” replied Ver, “The ORCA can’t influence their emotions. I can’t just make them mad.”

“What of your other areas of expertise, Doctor?” Jonah asked, leaning against the wall. “Your work in biochemics, or perhaps even your knowledge of how the Symphogears work?”

“Kaiju have been known to respond to chemicals,” Ver mused, “And some are even more wounded by them than most weapons. I’m fairly certain nothing that exists would be able to send all the kaiju into apocalyptic rages.”

“And the Symphogears, strange miracles that they are?” Jonah pressed.

“They’re weapons,” Ver said. “Gungnir, Igalima, Shul Shagana. Blunt instruments to deal physical damage. They might entice a kaiju to fight, but they won’t get it in a reset-the-biosphere mood.”

“You left one out,” Jonah said.

“Pardon?”

The former colonel rapped on the wall. “We’re not airborne. How have we not been discovered yet?”

Ver blinked. “Shenshoujing.”

“It’s a Symphogear, isn’t it?” Jonah asked.

“Yes,” answered the scientist, “Miss Sakurai- that is, Finé- tried to make one out of the relic. But it turned out to be weak, basically unsuited for combat, except against other relics. So she worked its light-bending abilities into a stealth function.”

“Other relics?” Jonah echoed, actually intrigued.

“According to the Shobijin,” explained Ver, “Shenshoujing was meant to be a weapon of last resort against its fellow relics. If someone entrusted with a relic grew too power-hungry and turned it on the human race, Shenshoujing was to be used. From what they told us, it’s seen several uses over recent history.”

“Is that so?” Jonah said, pulling up a chair, surprising himself with his interest in this tale.

“Yes. Most notably, it was used to destroy the relic Excalibur, after all the trouble it caused Britain.”

“King Arthur was real?” Jonah muttered. 

“The feats of the Knights of the Round were exaggerated by legend, but yes. At any rate, we’re going off topic. How do you think Shenshoujing could be used to further our goals beyond cloaking us?”

“I don’t know, Ver, I was just reminding you that there’s something we haven’t tried.”

Ver rolled away from his desk, spinning in his chair as he placed a hand on his chin. “Shenshoujing does have a secondary function. A very niche one, but I suppose it needed to do something other than reflect things and kill relics.”

“Enlighten me.”

“I see what you did there and it wasn’t that funny,” Ver said. “Anyway: it purifies. That power comes directly from Mothra, I’m pretty sure. Remember how she cleaned up Hedorah’s mess?”

“Why would I remember that? How old do you think I am?”

“Moving on,” Ver continued, “It purifies. Between that and the concept of ‘reflecting’, maybe it can be engineered to induce traumatic flashbacks of the ancient humans?”

“Sounds good to me,” said Jonah, “But how can you be certain that it will do that?”

“I _can’t,_ ” Ver drawled, “Fuck, man, have you never had a brainstorming session before? We’re just sharing ideas here, not making concrete plans.”

“Good God, you are obnoxious,” Jonah said under his breath, dragging a hand down his face. “Any ideas on how to make that the case?”

“I’d have to alter how the Gear functions,” Ver said, “Not something I’m exactly qualified to do. I have a decent idea of how they work, but the engineering is complicated. The easiest way to change a Symphogear’s function is based on its wielder’s perception.”

“So we explain to one of our three what they need to do,” Jonah said, “And they’ll give Shenshoujing the ability to affect a monster’s mental state.”

“Can’t do that,” Ver almost cut him off.

“Why the bloody hell not?”

“None of them have any compatibility with it,” explained the genius, “And trying to boost compatibility with it while they’re still tied to their own relics is far too risky.”

“Then we need someone else to do it?”

“Precisely, but what are the odds we find someone out there with goals like our own that happens to be capable of wielding a Gear?”

Jonah didn’t reply.

“That’s what I thought. Sorry, old man, but I don’t think your idea’s going to work.”

“Quiet, you moron,” Jonah growled, “I’m thinking.”

“That’s dangerous,” muttered Ver. Jonah heard him and barely managed to restrain himself from punching the nerd.

“If we want to grant the Gear mind-altering properties,” Jonah mused, “Perhaps we need to alter the mind of the wielder?”

“Whoa there,” Ver raised his eyebrows in surprise, “I can excuse eco-terrorism, but-”

“You can excuse terrorism?” Jonah chuckled. “I thought you would do anything to see your goal realized, Doctor.”

“I did,” defended Ver, “By which I meant I was willing to let people die for the future’s sake. But messing with the human brain, Jonah… that’s off-limits.”

“You think I’m talking about mind control?” Jonah asked, getting in Ver’s face, “I thought you were smarter than that. I’ve been manipulating people for decades. You know who has that talent in common with me?”

Ver narrowed his eyes. “Who?”

“Miki Saegusa, the most powerful psychic on the planet who almost never uses that power. There is nothing better for influencing what a person does than subtle _suggestion,_ in order to cause a change in their _perception._ ”

“Miki Saegusa?” Ver repeated. “Perception… influencing the mind…”

Then, for the first time in their whole conversation, his lips curled upward, light glinting in his eyes as it hit him.

“The drift.”

“The drift,” Jonah confirmed. “Do you think you can construct one?”

“Not with what I have on hand.”

“Give me a list of materials and I’ll get them for you. This could be how we win, doctor. Don’t disappoint me.”

“Hold on, I haven’t agreed! I’m in this for the kaiju. I don’t care what happens to get us back to coexistence, but-”

“But what, John?” snarled the eco-terrorist. “Were you able to live with the suffering you’ve caused before now? Is it because they were little more than faceless masses?”

“I-”

“This will be a test for you, Ver,” Jonah said, making for the door. “You’ll finally have to confront one of the people whose lives you’re ruining. If you can continue after that, I’ll know your conviction is strong.”

“What the hell, Jonah,” murmured Ver.

“You’re young,” chuckled Jonah. “You’re doing this because you believe it’s best for both us and the kaiju. Me, I don’t care where humanity ends up because I’ve seen the worst of this damnable species.”

Ver started laughing. It was no low, dignified chuckle, but a raucous, unhinged cackle. “You’re a fucking misanthrope! I should’ve known.” 

“It never gets better, John,” Jonah growled. “It just gets worse. If you accept that, you’ll in turn be able to accept what you have to do.”

The older man turned to leave. “Use any of the databases you need. Find a candidate to wear Shenshoujing, and start working on that drift. Think about why you’re here, Doctor.”

Ver watched the door Jonah left through for a moment after it closed.

“What have I gotten myself into,” he grumbled, turning back to his laptop.

In the Super X-3’s cockpit, another party was concerned, but significantly more so. The combat aircraft’s size necessitated video surveillance, and Dr. Nastassja had caught every word of the two men's conversation.

Needless to say, Jonah’s cold hatred was unsettling. She understood where he was coming from, of course. But an utter disregard for human lives wasn’t something she felt she could support. Jonah didn’t care how many people died in their pursuit of a world united with kaiju.

Perhaps she’d turned to the wrong people. Had it been incorrect to assume that world governments would never consider her idea without shows of force?

And then there was Ver’s ORCA. He was more like her than Jonah in terms of moral alignment; could he be persuaded to continue his research on bioacoustics and figure out proper communication with kaiju? Possibly, but that would take time, and with time would come loss of life. The declaration that they had entered a new Age of Monsters wasn’t wrong, but this current one was nowhere close to the intensity of the first yet. There was no telling when it would reach that level, when kaiju sightings and attacks would become daily occurrences.

And God help them all if Godzilla himself got in on the action.

Nastassja shook her head, ignoring the bubbling pain deep in her chest. Her body’s timer. Ver’s biochemical engineering- turning G-cells into medicine- wasn’t a permanent solution. They were merely staving off her inevitable death, and she would be fortunate to last another month.

There was no more time for inaction. Her plan had fallen apart before her eyes.

Perhaps they would listen if she approached peacefully?

Nastassja picked up her encrypted communicator. She had some calls to make.

Tokyo Shatterdome was busier than usual, and that was saying something. The Breachers were coming almost nightly, and while they were no challenge to kill, that left little downtime for maintenance crews; _any_ damage, no matter how minor, had to be repaired as much as possible before a Jaeger’s next sortie.

And no Jaeger was having more repairs than the newly-christened Mark VI Jaeger belonging to Rangers Haruo Sakaki and Yuko Tani: the Platinum Vulture.

This was not to say the two of them weren’t good at their jobs. They didn’t let Breachers get past them, and thus far had killed the ones they’d battled quickly, with minimal Blue spillage. The problem was that they kept trying to fly on _missions_ instead of during drills. Jaegers were controlled by the movements of the human body, and, well, humans don’t have gigantic, jet-powered wings. Mentally training oneself to flex muscles you don’t actually have is no easy feat. As a result, the pair of pilots had crashed the Vulture on multiple occasions, though thankfully not from too great a height.

They showed promise, and were clearly serious about their new roles defending humankind directly, but Sakaki and Tani were just a bit too green for Marshal Aso’s taste. They’d have to grow up _fast_ to fight off the real threats.

Threats like the one that had been sighted heading west over the Pacific Ocean between California and Hawaii. The one tearing through the upper atmosphere at a speed uncomfortably close to Mach 4, far too fast for any aircraft to keep up with.

The threat known commonly as Rodan.

Flying kaiju were the worst of the worst in Aso’s opinion. Nowhere but the sky was the human race quite so helpless against the kaiju. Stopping a flier, or even turning one away, was next to impossible with their absurd mobility compared to terrestrial or seafaring beasts. They didn’t even have to slow down to wreak their havoc, because the air swept up under their immense wings was more than capable of leveling buildings.

Aso, a man who liked to be proactive, didn’t like the implications or Rodan heading their way. He had no reason to believe the volcanic raptor was going to descend to a dangerous altitude, but it couldn’t hurt to be careful.

“Have Rangers Sakaki and Tani on standby,” Aso ordered a LOCCENT technician. “Have them practice their flight in the simulator as well. It’s more than possible that they may have to deal with their first true aerial battle today.”

“Sir, I know Vulture’s top speed is Mach 3, enough to match most airborne kaiju, but isn’t it still slower than Rodan?”

“Rodan’s speed record of Mach 4 is in a straight line. His travel speed is unparalleled, but his actual _mobility_ in the air is only average. If he slows down to fight Platinum Vulture, they’ll be able to match his speed and maneuverability.”

“And if he doesn’t slow down, Marshal?”

Aso chuckled. “Then he’s passing us by, and we have nothing to worry about. I’m simply trying to be prepared if he does do that.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Some people compare kaiju to hurricanes. Gigantic, powerful, unstoppable. But you can watch a hurricane form weeks before it strikes. You can forecast. For kaiju, that’s not the case. One moment there’s quiet, next a monster is beating down your door. They’re a lot more like earthquakes than anything else.”

Because Aso realized that he was waxing poetic, he thought rather than spoke the end of his analogy. _Like the planet itself lashing out at us._

As the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps tracked Rodan with bated breath, Japan went about its daily business, uncaring of the possibility of a kaiju attack. If it happened, it happened. There was no point in giving up one’s plans or responsibilities over what was strictly a _maybe._ You don’t think about possibly getting into an accident every time you get in your car. You prepare for the possibility, but you don’t let fear of the potential event force you out of the car.

As such, Hibiki Tachibana and Miku Kohinata were out on a totally-not-romantic-at-all date in the Tokyo Skytree, a very rare experience for the two of them. Hibiki was enjoying herself, too, though not as much as past visits. There was a lot on her mind, after all.

She’d promised not to fight. To take the time to heal, to the end of eventually fighting again, and going back to helping people with her full strength. The problem was, how long would something like that take? What was she supposed to do while she waited?

 _What good am I if I can’t fight, if I can’t save people who need it?_ Hibiki thought, utterly zoned out in front of the big fish tank.

Then something very, very cold was pressed against her cheek, and she made a noise that was not of this world, drawing stares.

“Don’t be so loud, Hibiki,” chided Miku, still offering her the can of chilled juice.

“B-b-but anyone would react that way if you did that to them!” Hibiki defended herself, opening the drink with a hiss. 

“You just looked so bored, Hibiki,” said Miku. “Normally you have a lot of fun here. That’s why I picked it.”

Hibiki sipped the juice; orange. “I know, Miku. And I am! But while you were getting the drinks my mind just… wandered.”

“Guess we’d better keep you occupied!” Miku cheerfully replied, taking Hibiki’s free hand. “This is a date, after all.”

“Y-yeah!” Hibiki chuckled, “A date with my sunshine! What am I moping around for?”

At about the same time, much higher up in the exceedingly tall Tokyo Skytree, a meeting of a far more serious nature was about to take place. 

One that Maria Cadenzavna Eve was largely in the dark about. She’d simply been told that Nastassja had found a “potential ally”, and her Mom had then asked her to come along and keep her safe. For the moment, that meant pushing her normal, non-electric wheelchair.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Nastassja said. 

Maria blinked. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’ve told you almost nothing about this meeting. Don’t you find that concerning?”

“You haven’t been entirely truthful to me in the past,” Maria admitted, “But with those decisions you made, and what information you have withheld, you had my best interests at heart.”

Nastassja sighed. “Only in ways that furthered my own goals. The lie about Finé, making not only you, but those girls, go along with my plans… it was wrong of me.”

“Your goal is noble, Mom.”

“During your time in America, outside the FIS,” Nastassja began, “Did you ever hear the phrase ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions’?”

“Once or twice,” replied Maria. “I understand what you’re getting at. I’ve never believed that our goal just… excuses our actions.”

By that point, the pair were approaching the door at the end of the hall. “But have you considered that we were going about this the wrong way?” 

“More than once. Why do you ask?”

The door opened, and Maria was shocked at what she saw. A multitude of men in suits, eyes hidden by dark shades as they turned to look at her and Nastassja.

“Mom, what…”

“Agents of the UN. They’re here to discuss steps in the right direction.”

“You’ve sold out?” Maria hissed. “These people don’t care about peace with kaiju!”

“They do not believe such a thing is possible,” replied Nastassja. “Today I’m going to try and show them that it may be.”

A few streets away, Dr. Ver, who had long since bugged _all_ of Nastassja’s wheelchairs, shook his head in disappointment.

He flipped open the ORCA and turned it to a certain frequency.

Fifty thousand feet above the Pacific Ocean, the fiery-winged King of the Skies twitched.

He knew that sound. That call. It was familiar in the worst way.

He waited, and before long, there was a response.

For every God, there was a Devil, and no creature fit the label of Rodan’s devil better than the Queen of the swarm. He’d fought hundreds of different swarm-queens in his very long life, and killed many, but it never got easier. As evolution made the two kaiju stronger, their battles grew more difficult and arduous. They weren’t even predator and prey; Rodan simply hated her. Killing her and thinning her swarm of drones was almost a pastime for the gigantic pterosaur.

Rodan let out his trademark cackle-call and ever so slightly changed direction, heading for the source of the mimic-sound that the Queen would doubtlessly also make for.

Snarling, Rodan realized that she was far, far closer to it than he was.

He had to go even faster.

It was time to find out what these new, immense wings could _really_ do.

After about half an hour of doing little more than listening, Maria still didn’t trust these people.

Mom had promised them information on the potential of Ver’s ORCA technology to further the goal of human-kaiju coexistence, but Maria could tell that wasn’t why they were really there. They were there because Nastassja was going to give up everything she knew about Jonah, his network, the underground web of eco-terrorists profiteering off a world of kaiju.

Maria had just listened as Nastassja dismantled her own plan, sharing the names and locations of many of their collaborators during the planning phase.

What could’ve made her Mom change her mind so drastically, in such a short time?

“This flash drive contains all of the exact coordinates for the locations that I mentioned. I look forward to working with you.”

The man who accepted the drive nodded to Nastassja, then walked over to his colleagues, handing it to one of them.

Then all of the UN agents turned to them, and produced their handguns.

Maria was almost happy at being proved correct.

“What is this?” Nastassja asked calmly.

“We will work with what you gave us, toward the goal of kaiju communication,” one of them said, “But we’ve also been ordered to arrest the both of you on charges of terrorism.”

Nastassja narrowed her eyes. “I was not informed of this.”

“You wouldn’t have come if you had been.”

“We’re not going with you,” Maria spat.

“Careful, diva,” another agent snarled, “Your songs might protect you, but they won’t be able to protect her before one of us fires.”

“Then we’re at a stalemate.” said Dr. Nastassja.

“Stalemate?” scoffed a shorter agent, “You have ten seconds to surrender before we start shooting. You don’t have an out here.”

Nastassja’s one eye glanced at the window, and she let out a sigh. “You always were a bit predictable, John.”

“What?” the agent asked.

Then, two seconds into the UN squad’s countdown, something big, green, and winged smashed through the window and promptly bit a man in half.

“The fuck-”

“Mom!” Maria cried, scooping Nastassja out of the wheelchair and placing her over her shoulder. “Wait, that’s a-”

The gigantic dragonfly in the conference room swallowed its unfortunate victim’s torso whole and chittered, taking in the rest of the potential prey in the room with a pair of compound eyes, its wings brushing either wall and still flapping fast enough to blow Maria’s hair back.

A Meganula.

A quick glance to the shattered window revealed many more of the megafauna, swarming outside. Maria, remembering Nastassja’s words moments before, quickly put two and two together.

“The ORCA brought them here,” she thought aloud, already making for the door and thumbing Gungnir.

“Yes,” Nastassja replied at her back, “But based on this timing, Ver either predicted something would go wrong or was prepared to break off the meeting.”

“I don’t care what his reasons were, things worked out,” Maria began, only to lose what she was going to say next as the entire Skytree shuddered.

“What was that?” she wondered.

She got an answer in the form of a cry that easily permeated the walls, loud and shrill, and echoed well after it stopped being made.

Maria put Gungnir on without further deliberation, just a quick _Granzizel Bilfen Gungnir zizzl_ as the shrill screech was instead replaced by a hum, the sound of gigantic wings beating faster than any other flying kaiju’s.

Ver hadn’t summoned the Meganulon. He’d summoned their Queen.

Outside, flying in tight circles around the tall building, the huge, purple dragonfly was getting annoyed. The familiar sound had vanished. She’d rushed to it as quickly as she was able, believing there to be a potential mate calling her, but upon her and her swarm’s arrival it had just… stopped.

Either this hypothetical male was a coward, and unworthy of being her mate, or he had never existed to begin with, and this was one of the humans’ little pranks.

They’d been getting real bold for livestock lately.

So Megaguirus gave her swarm explicit permission to gorge themselves on any human they could get in their mouths. She was getting rather old, and would need to be replaced by one of the stronger Meganula within a few dozen millennia.

From what she could tell, she’d interrupted a pretty normal day for the little mammals. There were a lot of them out and about, now fleeing from her and her entourage. There were some of their vehicles too, watching her from a distance and probably taking aim with those stinging lasers or those little explosives that would barely scuff her exoskeleton. She wasn’t all that durable, but she was still more than sturdy enough to handle something like that.

Even so, the little metal birds were annoyances not due to the risk to Megaguirus, but to the Meganula. They just had to go.

Megaguirus smirked(made possible by her possessing a proper pair of vertebrate jaws) and began to flap her quartet of wings ever faster. The sonic hum grew louder, the vibrations shattering glass for blocks and blocks around, and she _moved._

Ever since she had first revealed herself to humankind decades prior, she had been among the most feared kaiju. Her twenty-five year span of inactivity had done approximately nothing to alleviate that fear, and there was a very good reason why.

When she suddenly moved at a completely different angle from her prior flight path, darting sideways and upwards to shatter a helicopter with a single swipe of her claws in the blink of a human eye, there was nothing anyone could do to stop her.

She was the devil of the skies, after all.

“Don’t you dare, Hibiki!”

“Miku, every time she flies past, the-” Hibiki was cut off by the Skytree trembling on its foundations once again, “The tower comes closer to falling over!”

Miku met her eyes, a fierce glow in her own. “Then let’s get out! Evacuate with everyone else! I won’t let you fight, Hibiki!”

Hibiki held her stare. Gritted her teeth, let her hand drift to her chest, where the scar and the relic-turned-tumor rested. She pressed down with her fingers, felt the hard, unnatural lump and the tiny spark of pain that came with the action.

“Okay,” she said, barely audible over the din of the alarms and the evacuating people all around. “But first, let’s see if anyone here needs help.”

At that moment, the tower shook again, and both of them heard a very human cry of pain. Hibiki and Miku’s eyes met again. They nodded to each other.

“Let’s go.”

It only took a minute to find the source of the yell, a middle-aged white man on the floor next to a toppled wheelchair.

“Sir, are you okay?” Miku asked in Japanese, forgetting to try switching to English out of stress.

Imagine her surprise when the man replied in Japanese, “I’m all right, but I can’t walk.”

“Hibiki, help him up and I’ll hold his wheelchair.”

Hibiki did so, easily lifting the man due to her naturally trained strength. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, kid, I promise. I’ve been in worse situations than this.”

“Is that why you…”

“Are a paraplegic?” the man guessed. “Yeah. Hear about the Janjira incident six years ago?”

“Hokmuto, right?” Miku asked, holding the wheelchair’s handles as Hibiki slid the man into the seat. “You were there?”

“Sure was. I used to work at the power plant there, before it shut down.”

The tower shuddered again, and one of the fresh holes in the ceiling produced a rather small Meganulon. The megafauna nymph immediately zeroed in on the man, correctly perceiving him as the weakest target.

He wasted no time and drew a taser from within his coat.

The Meganulon was smaller than a human, so the voltage was more than enough to stun the insect, so the group used the opportunity to make their escape.

“Joseph Brody,” the man introduced himself, yelling over the wind pouring in from the shattered windows. “I study bioacoustics, and kaiju on the side.”

“I’m Hibiki!” Hibiki called back. “Nice to meet you!”

“You’re awful chipper, all things considered,” Joe said, before cursing as a colossal purple blur sped past outside and forced all three of them to stop in place and hunker down, lest the gust of air Megaguirus created sweep them all out the window. There were Meganula speeding by too, the size of biplanes, and if any of those noticed them, Hibiki would have no choice but to…

 _No,_ Hibiki told herself. _I have to live for Miku. I won’t do any fighting today._

“What are you lot doing?!” screamed a new voice from the stairwell door. “Get over here, it’s not safe out in the open!”  
“Take him, please!” Miku asked the man at the door. “We’re going to see if anyone else is stuck up here.”

Joe rolled himself over to the door. “You kids stay safe. I get wanting to save people, but you need to get out of here as soon as you possibly can.”

“We understand, Mr. Brody,” Miku replied, taking Hibiki’s hand(she was still the faster runner between the two of them). “Take care yourself!”

The pair of them ran away from the window area to once more look for anyone in need, listening nervously to the utter cacophony of buzzing and rumbling outside as the Skytree trembled, its foundations managing to hold.

For now.

Then there was a new sound, a roar. Not a mighty kaiju roar, but the roar of dozens of immense jet engines. The girls cast their glances outside just in time to see an immense shape of shining silver streak by.

“What was that?” Hibiki asked.

“I think it was a Jaeger,” Miku responded, “Hopefully it can lure Megaguirus away, if nothing else.”

Within Platinum Vulture’s Conn Pod, the Mark VI’s pilots intended to do much more than just lure the mighty dragonfly away.

“Keep us airborne, Yuko,” Haruo said, still not entirely used to communicating via the drift. “If we land, she’ll fly circles around us.”

“Won’t she do that already?” replied Yuko, eyeing Megaguirus as she darted around.

“We’re pretty maneuverable ourselves, so long as we’re at a high altitude.”

“How do we draw her up, though?”

“Like this,” Haruo said, and took aim with Vulture’s wrist-mounted railgun.

He fired at where Megaguirus was _going_ to be instead of where she _was,_ and as a result scored a direct, if superficial, hit.

The titanic dragonfly whirled to face them, letting out that ethereal quavering screech she was known for. Haruo and Yuko slowed Vulture to a hover, letting it demonstrate its size. In terms of height, it was rather average for a Jaeger, but its stature was increased by the massive wings affixed to its back, outfitted with the engines that kept it aloft.

“Well, we’ve got her attention.”

Indeed, Megaguirus had narrowed her eyes at them, another rare ability for insect kaiju. She, too, hovered in place, four wings vibrating as she waited for them to make a move.

“Let’s go, Yuko!” Haruo roared, trying to psych them both up.

“Right!” Yuko yelled back, sufficiently psyched up.

A thought later, and Platinum Vulture’s engines roared, their output increasing, and the Jaeger ascended above Tokyo’s skyline.

And, to the new Rangers’ relief, Megaguirus followed.

She came after them hard and fast, making an unexpected beeline, so Haruo and Yuko leveled both railguns at the insectoid monster and fired, alternating between the left and right weapons. Dodging the first round sent her right into the path of the second, so Megaguirus mixed up her evasive maneuvers. The Rangers were forced to keep adjusting their aim and turning Vulture to keep her in their sights, an act of micro-positioning that they had only ever practiced.

Somehow, it was working out, and their keep-away game was effective.

Until Megaguirus realized that if she came at them from below, their attacks would endanger the other humans below.

“Well, shit,” Haruo growled. “She found a hole in that plan.”

“Close-quarters?” Yuko asked. “How will we manage in that regard?”

“Megaguirus is fast, but she’s not particularly strong or sturdy,” replied Haruo, stowing his arm’s railgun. “All we have to worry about is her potentially taking out our engines.”

“We won’t _fall,_ though,” Yuko reminded him.

“Yeah, these wings still let us fly, but nowhere near the speed or height of a kaiju,” he admitted. “Here she comes.”

Screeching like a banshee, Megaguirus slammed into Platinum Vulture at considerable speed, immediately clamping a pincer around its midsection and grappling with her other limbs. Yuko responded by grabbing her right where her head connected to her thorax and squeezing. She let out a strangled scream and flapped hard, carrying the two of them higher.

Suddenly Haruo and Yuko experienced a very uncomfortable sensation as Megaguirus’ stinger pierced Vulture’s thigh, stabbing deep and disconnecting muscle fibers.

“Shit!”

“We better not land too hard,” hissed Haruo as he punched the dragonfly kaiju. “You cut through yet?”

“I don’t think,” Yuko said through gritted teeth as her own body matched the strain of the Jaeger’s, “Vulture’s claws are suited for this.”

“Throw her off then, before she goes for the other leg.”

The pair of them cooperatively used both of Vulture’s arms and managed to get Megaguirus off them, who retreated a bit and clicked her pincers threateningly.

But there was another sound too. Another high-pitched noise, but not a screech or a roar, rather a strange, eerie whistle.

 _Yuko,_ Haruo offered in the drift, _You hear that?_

 _Yeah,_ she replied, _And I think I know what it is._ _Look at the air pressure monitors._

Haruo paled. _Then that means he’s here already-_

Both pilots screamed as an astonishingly loud sonic boom- deafening even when dampened by the Jaeger’s sensors- heralded the arrival of Rodan.

He paid the two of them no mind and just slammed into Megaguirus faster than any kaiju on the planet, faster than even his own original speed record, immediately taking a firm grip with his talons and flinging her toward the street, thousands of feet below.

“AM I TALKING LOUDER THAN I USUALLY DO?” Haruo yelled, face scrunched up in pain.

“I DON’T KNOW, AM I?” Yuko screamed back, her own ears ringing.

Below them, Megaguirus recovered before she could strike the earth and ascended once again, blood dripping from the cracks in her exoskeleton that Rodan’s impact had created. She rose to his height as he flapped his titanic wings to hover in place, repeatedly letting out that annoying cackle.

Megaguirus screamed at her old rival and sped toward him, darting from side to side and up and down to make him unsure of what angle she’d attack from. For his part, Rodan, knowledgeable of her tactics, tracked her motions with his eyes, ready for anything.

To her frustration, the moment Megaguirus zipped forward to attack, Rodan flapped mightily to get out of the way, and his thick, lava-armored wing slapped her in the face. She rebounded quickly, though, and snapped up the offending appendage with her pincer, forcing Rodan’s next strokes to be awkward and unbalanced. She pulled him down to fling herself up, and dragged her stinger across his neck as she passed, drawing the pterosaur’s boiling blood.

Rodan growled and gave chase, his colossal wingspan offering greater thrust but lesser mobility than Megaguirus’ set of four wings. Were it not for his sheer strength and armor, this would be a losing battle.

But as it was, Megaguirus’ attacks were doing little, and she was being forced to dodge frantically to evade Rodan’s retaliatory swipes. Her still-healing wounds from his arrival weren’t helping matters.

Things got worse when the humans’ metal giant attacked her again, a round from Vulture’s railgun striking her right between the wings, making her lurch. Rodan, not one to look a gift railgun down the barrel, immediately twisted in midair to peck into the damaged area, assaulting the flight muscles beneath the exoskeleton with his giant beak.

Megaguirus screeched and clamped a pincer around each of Rodan’s horns to wrest him away, but the damage was done, and flight was becoming difficult. 

Still, she had a hold on the King of the Skies’s horns, so with what power remained to her wings she zipped around to his back and held on for dear life, weighing him down as she sent out a telepathic call to the swarm below. Like a queen bee’s drones, the closest Meganula streaked upward, grabbing hold of Rodan and just managing to pierce his rocky skin to drink the thermal power of his blood.

Rodan cackled in annoyance and allowed himself and Megaguirus to go into free-fall as he writhed and thrashed, scraping off the pesky Meganula like a human swatting mosquitoes, but what energy the surviving Meganula managed to suck from him was more than enough to heal Megaguirus’ wounds when they transferred it to her.

“Oh, that’s right,” Yuko murmured, her ears having recovered for the most part. “She can do that.”

“The pros of having an entourage,” Haruo snarled. “If only we still had Ospreys for reinforcement.”

“Are we going in, Haruo?”

“Wait for them to separate. We don’t want to hit Rodan and piss him off.”

It was then that Megaguirus, almost completely healed, used Rodan’s back as a midair launch-pad to regain her altitude, wings buzzing just as fast as before. The prehistoric firebird screamed as his freefall accelerated, still being accosted by Meganula.

“Well, piss him off more.” added Haruo. 

“Haruo, he’s going to hit the ground!”

Haruo made a split-second decision. They couldn’t let Rodan hit the ground. His impact, the sheer area of his mighty wings, would cause immense damage and casualties. But if they went to help him like that, there was no telling what he’d do to them.

Cursing, Haruo pushed the plan into the drift, and Yuko immediately accepted. Platinum Vulture’s engines roared as they angled themselves into a dive and chased after the plummeting kaiju. 

They managed to get under his back and reached up, bracing the Jaeger’s hands against his mighty shoulder blades as they pushed their mechanical wings to their absolute limits. The titan’s fall slowed, and he let out a squawk of surprise at the relatively cold metal at his back. Vulture’s heat-resistant armor came in handy as the smoke and molten rock that Rodan constantly shed fell around them.

Gradually, just a scant few hundred feet above the skyline of Tokyo, Rodan’s fall was halted as Platinum Vulture pushed up and the aptly named Fire-Demon was able to enter an upright hover. He regarded them with icy blue eyes that stunningly contrasted the rest of his colors. After what felt like hours, but what was more likely a few seconds, he chuffed and headed for Megaguirus, still darting in circles high above.

“Do you think that was a blessing to help?” Haruo asked.

“Only one way to find out, right?” replied Yuko, a serious smile on her face.

“Sometimes you scare me.”

As the battle in the sky raged, a smaller, more personal fight continued in the crumbling Tokyo Skytree. Not Hibiki and Miku’s search for trapped civilians, but rather Maria and Nastassja’s escape. At every turn, they found their way barred by UN agents wielding various firearms, and while Maria was impervious to bullets, Nastassja very much was not. There were also still civilians trapped, and Maria couldn’t just let them die up here while she escaped. Naturally, they were confused at a known terrorist saving their lives, but their self-preservation was stronger.

“Why are they so hell-bent on taking us down?” Maria wondered, ducked behind Gungnir’s cape.

“They must be assuming that our operations will continue as they have been, now that negotiations have failed,” Nastassja said quietly over Maria’s shoulder.

“Are they correct?” asked Maria as the tower shook again.

“Get back to me when our lives aren’t in jeopardy,” Nastassja quipped, showing a rare glimpse of sarcasm.

“Out of my way!” Maria roared, lunging forward with the cape still in front of her. The agents ducked out of the way to avoid being rammed, but before they could circle behind to fire at Nastassja, Gungnir’s cape split and struck them on the backs of their necks to knock them out.

“That’s two more down,” Maria said. “Just how many people did they bring?”

Nastassja stifled a cough. “Not enough, evidently.”

They rounded a corner and Maria barely managed to get the cape-shield up in time as no fewer than _five_ agents opened fire.

Maria scanned the hall; there were now-shattered windows further down, past the agents.

There were people there, braced against the howling winds of the altitude.

Maria paled.

“You idiots!” she screamed. “Those civilians are in danger! This place is crawling with man-eating bugs!”

“Shut your damn mouth, terrorist! If we let you go, you’ll kill far more people!”

Maria gritted her teeth and advanced under the hailstorm of lead, occasionally glancing out from behind her shadowy barrier to check on the trapped civilians.

Step, pause, check. Step, pause, check. Breathe. Adjust Nastassja on her shoulder. Step, pause, check.

One of them was young. A boy who couldn’t have been older than Shirabe. Trapped up here between hungry megafauna and murderous special operatives.

Maria would be damned before she let anything happen to him or his family.

Step, pause, check. Breathe. Check on Gungnir’s functionality. Step, pause, check-

Then it happened.

A cruel pair of slavering mandibles reached through the open window as a Meganula passed.

One moment the boy was there, the next he wasn’t, and his parents’ faces had morphed into abject horror as they reached out into space.

That was a life, gone. In front of Maria’s eyes.

Red clouded her vision. Anger, or perhaps the blood on her hands.

She let out a wordless scream, and the cape surged forward.

Even over the crack of gunfire and the screams of the boy’s parents, Maria distinctly heard the horrible sound of flesh parting.

The edges of the cape glistened crimson as Maria yanked them back, and two of the UN agents crumpled to the floor.

This was _her_ fault.

All of this because she couldn’t execute the original plan. This meeting gone awry, Ver calling Megaguirus, innocents dead before her eyes. Because she couldn’t play the role of big bad Finé and get other countries to listen through fear.

All

Her

Fault.

She didn’t even pay attention, just guarded Nastassja and lashed out with her spear, her boots. She struck with the sort of force meant to damage kaiju, and the remaining agents were little more than red mists.

The red faded from her vision, but it was still everywhere. Soaking into the walls, floor, and ceiling. Hot and sticky on her skin.

What she’d done barely registered.

She just walked over to the remaining civilians- _the boy’s parents_ , looking scared out of their minds at her approach.

 _Stay calm,_ she thought. “Stay calm!” she roared. “I’ll protect you from any more monsters.”

“What the hell are you?”

Maria’s voice was thick, laden with unshed tears. “I guess I’m a monster too, in my own way. Stay behind me and no harm will come to you.”

They complied, probably out of fear, which was ironic to Maria. The next floor down, more bullets. Maria was about to repeat her actions from the previous group when suddenly, almost seeming to materialize from thin air, a rather plain-looking man in a suit knocked the UN agents unconscious.

“What-”

“No time for questions,” the brown-haired man said. “I’ll get them to safety.”

“How did you do that- and _why?_ ”

“What did I just say about questions,” the man said, more bemused than anything. “I’ve been on your group’s tail since Paris, Lady Eve. Tsubasa sends her regards.”

“Wait, what-”

Before Maria could finish her sentence, the man had snatched up the mother and father with shocking ease and vanished.

Maria stood stock-still, absorbing recent events.

Nastassja coughed, half to get Maria’s attention and half because she was dying of lung cancer. “What now?”

Maria frowned, the tears finally threatening the corners of her eyes. “I clean up as much of this mess as I can.”

A kilometer above, Haruo and Yuko were quite busy getting that “experience” Aso wanted for them. Most of that consisted of remembering to keep themselves aloft as Platinum Vulture grappled with Megaguirus. Having an extra pair of limbs was _hard._

They’d have lost already if not for Rodan fighting the giant insect with all the ferocity in his 250-million-year-old bones. His face was twisted in hate, his blue-sky eyes burning with an anger older than the human race. He’d ripped open Megaguirus half a dozen times, spilling her guts to the streets below, but every time the Meganula flew up to feed her the energy from consuming the humans on the ground, and she’d heal right up. Rodan healed too, of course, but not quite that fast, and every wound on him was a dangerous, half-cooled boulder of igneous rock sent plummeting to the ground.

“This is going nowhere,” Haruo snarled as the pair of them kept Megaguirus from impaling Rodan’s heart on her stinger.

“We have to keep the swarm from getting to her,” Yuko proposed. “Stop the healing.”

“It’s already slowing down with the evac completing,” Haruo pointed out. “I’d wager what they have now is all they’ve got.”

“Then let’s take ‘em out!” 

“That’s the plan!”

With a simultaneous thought, they ordered Vulture’s targeting systems to focus on the smaller flying megafauna rather than the gigafauna Megaguirus. Then, with a button press of each of their free hands, Haruo and Yuko fired.

They fired _everything._

A storm of heat-seeking, armor-piercing missiles, damaging at best to kaiju, utterly blasted apart every Meganula they hit, choking the sky with smoke and vaporized bugs.

Megaguirus screamed her quavering scream and about-faced to vent her wrath on them, but the moment she turned her back, Rodan was there.

The claws on his hands took her forewings, and his feet gripped the hind wings, holding them in place with all the strength he could muster.

He let his burning wings release more flaming material than ever before, burning and charring her exoskeleton as she began to fall, pinned by her mortal enemy.

Haruo and Yuko sighed with relief at first, but then noticed that the two fliers were falling at an angle.

Right towards the Tokyo Skytree.

Even if they weren’t drifting, connected by a neural link, the pair would’ve still said “Oh, shit,” in unison.

“Hibiki, we have to go!”

“Miku, we haven’t checked everywhere!” protested Hibiki. 

“We’ve been in here long enough, it’s a miracle the tower hasn’t come down yet!”

Hibiki’s retort was cut off as she saw something over Miku’s shoulder and paled.

“Hibiki, are you listening to me?!”

It was Megaguirus and Rodan, falling straight for the Skytree as the flying Jaeger pursued.

“Hibiki!”

The kaiju were so close. Suddenly Rodan let go and flapped hard to stop himself from crashing, but Megaguirus was still coming-

Hibiki moved. She didn’t put on Gungnir, she just moved, took hold of Miku and held her close, shielded her with her own body as a 30,000 ton kaiju struck the building.

The Skytree lurched, and Hibiki felt her feet leave the floor.

It had to be falling.

But then it stopped, bent but not collapsed, Hibiki’s back hit the floor, and she started to roll, losing her grip on Miku as the world blurred into nonsensical colors and she reached out for something, anything, to stop rolling.

She found herself hanging outside the Skytree, gripping a newly-exposed beam.

Hundreds of feet above the ground.

She made the mistake of looking down and saw a badly wounded Megaguirus hit the earth, and to make matters worse that impact shook the tower too and loosened her grip.

A hand caught her own before she could fall.

“I’ve got you, Hibiki!”

“Miku,” Hibiki breathed, inaudible over the wind. Then, louder. “Miku!”

“Don’t talk, just hold on while I pull you up!” Miku pleaded between rapid breaths.

“Miku, you’ll fall if you keep holding on to me! Look at the angle we’re at.”

“I won’t let you fall!” Miku said, nearly in tears.

“Even if you pull me up, we’ll be stuck up here!” Hibiki reminded her.

“Then what do I do?!” screamed Miku.

“Let go,” Hibiki said, putting on a smile. “I have Gungnir, I’ll survive the fall and then come get you.”

Miku shook her head vigorously. “If you put that thing on, you’ll die!”

“It’ll only be for a moment, Miku,” Hibiki reassured her. “And if I don’t, we’ll both die up here.”

Tears streamed freely down Miku’s cheeks. “Hibiki…”

“It’s okay,” Hibiki said, “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

She let go.

“Hibiki!” Miku screamed, her face and voice growing smaller as Hibiki began the fall.

A quick holy chant and stab of pain later, and the armor of Gungnir surrounded her. When she hit the ground, she did not splatter into red paste, but instead cratered the earth with her impact and rose to her short standing height with little discomfort from the landing.

Ignoring the twitching form of Megaguirus nearby, Hibiki looked up at the damaged top portion of the Skytree.

“I’ll be right there, Miku,” she said to herself as sweat poured down her face and the spike of pain stabbed deeper into her chest.

But before she could jump, there was the screeching and groaning of metal giving way, something went wrong in the building’s electrical systems, and a massive, fiery explosion blossomed within the destroyed tower.

Hibiki blinked.

No way she’d seen that right. Right?

Right where she’d just been. Where she’d left Miku, promising to return.

Cold dread washed over her in contrast to her boiling body temperature.

Hibiki screamed Miku’s name until there was no air left in her lungs.

**CHAPTER XV: Eclipsed**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of things get eclipsed in this chapter. Also, funny that Miku suffering happens in chapter XV. I didn't plan it that way, I swear.  
> Megaguirus is pretty cool and I like her. Since the Meganulon first show up in Rodan (1956), I figured she and the big bird should have a bit of a rivalry going.  
> Again, sorry for my wacky procrastinator's upload schedule. I hope this chapter's length and content make up for the wait. Stay safe and stay healthy, etc. Thanks for reading and/or commenting. And most importantly, thanks for getting this humble little passion project to 1,000 hits. Y'all are great.


	16. CHAPTER XVI: Double Event One

_ Public opinion has long been divided on the subject of a certain geneticist by the name of Genshiro Shiragami. The reason for the kaiju Biollante’s existence, he has been in prison for illegal experimentation since 1990. Biollante, meanwhile, has continued to grow and propagate throughout Northern Africa, terraforming the Sahara. In the twenty-six years since her birth, this kaiju has lifted brand new mountain ranges, directly altering the climate of the Saharan region to allow more moisture to be carried there by atmospheric winds. And, just last year, a band of eco-terrorists planted a second individual in the Amazon Rainforest, which has already begun to restore deforested land. However, Biollante’s spread has also had an extensive impact on human settlements in both regions, forcing people to abandon buildings. Environmentalists laud Shiragami for creating an unstoppable ecosystem-healing machine, and corporations loathe him for halting their industrial process. _

**From a 2015** **_New York Times_ ** **article.**

  
  


**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


Consciousness returned instantly.

Deep breaths. In. out.  _ Stay calm. You don’t know where you are. _

Miku opened her eyes to find she was encased in a glass prison.

Beyond them, a rather small room. All sorts of equipment she didn’t recognize. A man in a lab coat, hunched over a desk.

“Doctor,” said a familiar voice, “She’s awake.”

Miku turned, and there she was, sitting on the floor, back resting against the wall. Maria Cadenzavna Eve, the reason she was still alive. 

A few short moments after Miku had lost her grip on Hibiki, the second Gungnir wielder had broken through some rubble only to find Miku, who had tears already spilling down her cheeks. 

Curiously, Maria herself had looked to be holding back tears as she ordered Miku to stay calm and scooped her up, tossing her over her free shoulder. An older woman occupied the other, who had halfheartedly greeted Miku despite their situation.

Another moment, and they were out, sailing through the open air, and Miku got a clear look at the top half of the Skytree as it was wracked by sudden explosions. She was grateful in that moment for Maria’s arrival, but dread replaced that positive emotion quickly.

Hibiki would think she was still in there when the blast went off. She would keep her Gear on, and kill herself searching. Miku was sure of it.

“Let me down!” Miku cried, consumed with worry in the heat of the moment. “Take me to Hibiki!”

“Oh?” Maria had replied over the roar of the wind, the engines of the Jaeger above, and Rodan’s cackles. “You know the fusion girl?”

“She’s my best friend, and she needs me!”

Maria had landed on a neighboring building then, still keeping Miku on her shoulder. “Then perhaps I  _ shouldn’t  _ take you to her.”

“Maria,” the other woman spoke up, “Taking a hostage isn’t like you.”

“I held a whole concert stadium hostage, Mom,” came Maria’s terse reply.

“You let them all go. Do the same here.”

Maria had scoffed at that, and prepared to lower Miku to her feet, when a voice emanated from her Gear, likely so both she and the older woman could hear. As such, Miku heard it all.

_ “Belay that. Maria, bring that girl back to base.” _

“Doctor?” asked Maria, sounding puzzled. “Why do you care?”

_ “That girl attends Lydian Academy. Every girl in that institution is a potential candidate to wield a Symphogear.” _

“Is that so… why do you want her, Doctor?”

_ “I, uh… I want to test some new LiNKER, without using you or the girls.” _

“If it isn’t safe to test on us, why would it be safe to test on her?” Maria challenged, and Miku found herself confused at the woman’s sudden protectiveness.

_ “It’s not safe to test on you three because you have a different type of LiNKER, attuned to your specific Gears, already in your systems. Her blood is clean, so she should suffer no ill effects.” _

“You’re going to do what to me?” Miku piped up.

_ “Oh, can she hear me? Listen, Kohinata-san. I promise that you won’t be harmed.” _

“Why should I believe you?”

“I,” Maria declared, “Will not let him hurt you, Kohinata. I will let my actions speak for me in that regard. Of course, I can’t exactly let you find out where we’re hiding, either. I’m sorry about this.”

Before Miku could ask what she was sorry for, there had been a sharp blow to her neck, and she’d slipped out of the waking world.

And now she was… somewhere. The den of her captors.

The belly of the beast.

“What happened?” she asked immediately.

“Megaguirus limped away,” Maria answered immediately, “And that new Jaeger held Rodan off from pursuing until she was out over the ocean. We have no reason to believe that your friend succumbed to her fusion, either.”

“What now, then?” 

“Now the doctor runs some tests,” said the woman. “I’ll be here to supervise him. Make sure he doesn’t overstep in any way.”

“Honestly,” the man at the desk sighed, standing up, “I don’t know why you don’t trust me. What would I possibly do to her?”

“I’d rather not find out. What Gear are you going to use for these tests, anyway?”

The man, Dr. Ver, dangled a crimson pendant like Miku had seen on Chris and Tsubasa. “Shenshoujing. It’s weak enough that putting it on with low compatibility values won’t cause her much strain.”

“Wasn’t that powering our cloaking, Doctor?” asked Maria.

“It was,” Ver admitted, “But we’re good and refueled now. We can make it a fair distance without it.”

“And,” Maria added, raising a finger, “One more thing. When you test the Gear, couldn’t she, in theory, use it to break out of here?”

Ver considered the prospect, examining the Symphogear. Then his eyes flickered to his desk, and Miku managed to catch where his glance was headed. She peered at his laptop’s monitor, but couldn’t read any of what was on screen from where she was.

“Something tells me that… she won’t want to.”

Pacific. Derived from “peace”. Oddly enough, the Pacific Ocean had never been peaceful. Site of the geological ring of fire, and now practically a hive of kaiju activity. Some wondered if that was in fact why so many kaiju were concentrated in just one of the Earth’s oceans; if the tectonic activity was somehow attractive to the strange beasts.

It was certainly attractive to the Breachers, slumbering beneath the seafloor. Every little shake of the massive plates, every slip of numberless tons of rock into the mantle, was a jostle that might awaken them early.

Of course, it was impossible for them to awaken late.

The titanic Breacher tore its way free of the Earth’s crust in mere moments, its awful bulk adding the power to shatter the rock easily. Behind it, out of the rapidly-collapsing hollow, followed a smaller but still mighty creature, ready to fight alongside it and work together to destroy anything in their path.

The two of them had been made with the other in mind, after all.

The technician blinked. Double-checked the readings. Triple-checked them. Blinked again. Pressed the button.

“Marshal,” he said, sounding nervous, “We have a breach.”

“Location?” Marshal Pentecost asked.

“Eighty kilometers off the island of Honshu, sir.”

“Shallow,” remarked Stacker. “What are we picking up?”

“Th-that’s the thing, sir,” the technician stammered, adjusting his glasses. “There’s, um… more than one.”

Silence in LOCCENT.

“More than one,” Stacker said, slowly. “Another breach?”

“No, sir, just the one breach, but, ah… two Breachers, sir. At the same time.”

That had never happened before. They had had multiple Breachers in one night, some within just an hour of each other, but never in the same place at the same time.

“Categories?” Pentecost asked.

“That’s the, um, other thing, sir. If what we’re picking up on the sensors is correct… one of them is Category Five.”

Stacker, characteristically, took this in stride. “Does Tokyo know?”

“Notified them already,” Tendo Choi piped up. “They say they’re deploying Gipsy and Vulture.”

“Will both at once be enough to take on a Cat Five?”

“Don’t assume they’ll be alone,” Pentecost reminded them. “We might be the primary defense around the Pacific Rim, but Japan has its own defenses. Even so, a Cat Five is… worrying.”

Just then, something else came through, this time to Tendo. “Marshal, we’ve got a transmission from one of our observation vessels.”

“An update?”

“Yes and no. They’re tracking the Breachers, but their sensors also got… something else. Two somethings.”

“Kaiju? Heading the same way?”

“That’s correct, sir, but the readings are small. One in deep water, one near the surface.”

Stacker thought hard for a moment. “Two kaiju, relatively small, near each other, one swimming deep and one shallow…”

He trailed off, sharing a significant glance with Tendo as his brows furrowed.

“It’s the Gargantua twins.”

Indeed, Gaira the Green was hot on the trail of these interlopers, following close to the ocean floor.. He’d rushed off after them in a hurry when they appeared near his and Sanda’s place, unwilling to tolerate any threat to their peace. He knew he was outmatched, of course, but wherever he went, his brother always followed, ever the protective sibling. Together, they were strong. 

Sanda was also rather protective of the humans, so that was added incentive for him to go after one of these threats. Gaira personally didn’t care about them(and had eaten several off ships as a convenient snack), but he supposed it couldn’t hurt to curry favor with their smaller cousins.

And, sure, whatever the humans sent to combat the interlopers would probably turn on the Gargantuas after, but they were used to that. Gaira found there was nothing to worry about.

After all, it wasn’t like either of them were capable of dying.

Fathoms above, a scant few meters below the waves, Sanda the Brown correctly guessed his brother’s cavalier attitude. Gaira had always been quick to jump into fights, even when the two of them had been much, much smaller creatures. The pair of them had once beaten Titanosaurus to a pulp despite being half his size, but now they were big. It seemed that all the  _ other  _ monsters had grown, too, meaning Sanda and Gaira were likely still the runts among them, but that was fine. They were strong in spite of their stature, and healed no matter how badly they were hurt. Sanda would always be willing to stick his neck out for the humans if the situation called for it.

Gaira disagreed, but Sanda felt that the two of them owed the humans. They might have been raised in a lab and subject to all sorts of testing, but they’d also been treated well and kindly, and it was the intervention of that same group of humans that had allowed them a chance to escape into the wider world when those with bad intentions came knocking.

So, as he paddled toward land, toward a fight, Sanda vowed to kill whatever was headed for the humans with his own two hands.

Gipsy stood, once again ankle-deep in the water, turned not toward the ocean but toward the land, still as a statue save for the spinning turbine in its chest.

Mako was watching the glittering nighttime skyline of Tokyo in the distance, perhaps remembering. Raleigh let her, taking in her feelings through their mental link. Lots of nostalgia. Bits of bitterness, but he was no stranger to that. A bit of nervousness, presumably at being trusted with defending the largest city in the world.

He couldn’t physically reach out and touch her shoulder, but he sent some reassurance into the drift that she gratefully accepted. At length, Gipsy turned toward the Pacific, waiting for their opponents’ arrival.

Thousands of feet above, the winged form of Platinum Vulture circled, easily visible by the glowing blue exhaust from its numerous engines. It seemed like the new recruits were finally getting the hang of things.

“Gipsy, this is Vulture,” Yuko’s voice chimed in over comms, “Remind me again what exactly is headed our way?”

“Two Breachers and two Gargantuas,” Mako spoke before Raleigh could, “Cat Five named Gaghiel, Cat Four named Leatherback. If you’ve paid any attention in your high school history classes, you know who the Gargantuas are.”

“Humans mutated in the womb, right?” Haruo asked quietly. “I heard they were only twenty-five meters tall.”

“They were, but from what I’ve heard, they grew, just like every other monster on the planet,” Raleigh cut in. “New estimates have them close to sixty-five.”

“A lot shorter than us,” Yuko noted, “How challenging could they be?”

“They have the fastest healing factor ever observed, you know,” said Mako. “You won’t be able to properly end a fight with them by ripping off a limb or a head. You’d have to completely pulverize them.”

“I don’t know how I feel about that,” replied Yuko after a beat. “They’re just a few steps away from people like us, aren’t they?”

“Which is why we’re under orders not to antagonize them,” Mako supplied, “Only engage the Gargantuas if they attack first. We’re out here for the Breachers.”

“Understood,” said Haruo. “How far out are they? We’re not seeing anything from up here.”

Mako checked a monitor that was receiving live updates from LOCCENT within the Shatterdome. “Apparently they’re swimming relatively deep. Without spotlights, you won’t be able to see them until they start surfacing.”

“That’s bad, right?” asked Haruo. “They might just ignore us and swim into Tokyo Bay instead.”

Mako and Raleigh looked at each other in the Conn Pod, frowning. “Breachers have a consistent behavioral pattern, Ranger Sakaki. They go for large, moving objects first and foremost.”

“I remember that from the first course of basic training,” Haruo said, a little tersely. “But how often do these Breachers come in  _ pairs,  _ and have true kaiju  _ chasing  _ them?”

At that moment, as though the monster had a sense of comedic timing, the Cat Five changed course, prompting an alert on both Jaegers’ HUDs.

“Divide and conquer,” grumbled Raleigh. “We should’ve seen this coming. Gipsy’s still good to submerge, right?”

“Always has been,” Mako replied. “The Plasmacasters are updated to work underwater, too.”

“Hey, hold on!” Yuko cried over the line. “ _ We  _ are the ones that can  _ fly. _ Let us deal with the one heading for Tokyo Bay.”

“There is not a chance in hell that I am letting a pair of rookies take on the first Category Five  _ ever  _ all by themselves,” Raleigh snapped, slipping into English in his frustration. Then, after calming himself, he continued in Japanese, “You two stay here and stop Leatherback. We’ll deal with Gaghiel.”

“But that thing’s swimming quick,” Haruo remarked. “If you want to beat it to the mouth of the Bay, you’ll have to let us give you a lift.”

“Can you lift Gipsy?” Mako asked, tilting the Jaeger’s head up to watch Vulture descend toward them. “She’s pretty dense.”

“With the afterburners, we’re supposed to be able to pick up the Big G himself,” Yuko responded, citing a claim by one of Vulture’s chief engineers. “Gipsy weighs, what, sixty thousand tons? Shouldn’t be an issue.”

“If you say so,” relented Mako, raising Gipsy’s arm as Raleigh did the same. Vulture hovered above them for a moment, then locked its fingers with theirs. The machine’s great engines grew louder as their thrust increased.

“Would you mind taking a running start?” Haruo asked, “Makes things easier.”

Mako and Raleigh obliged, breaking Gipsy into a sprint in the shallows as Vulture gradually flew faster to keep up with them, until eventually they were moving as fast as they could, approaching the end of the artificial seafloor.

“There’s the edge of our runway,” Yuko said, sounding slightly nervous. “Jump now!”

Gipsy’s feet cleared the water as Vulture gunned the thrusters, and after about a kilometer of just skimming above the waves, they began to gain altitude.

“Huh,” Raleigh remarked as they watched the world below get further away, “Makes you wonder why more of these things can’t fly.”

“They actually want to mass-produce Vulture,” Haruo chimed in, sounding uncharacteristically engaged. “They’d have to secure a lot of funding, though, so they’re counting on us to pilot her well and make the idea appealing to investors.”

“I’d rather they just put wings on Gipsy, personally,” Raleigh replied. “Think you can be back before Leatherback comes ashore?”

“How far out is it?” asked Yuko.

“Ten kilometers offshore- wait,” Mako replied, “It’s surfacing. That’s odd.”

Both Jaegers’ heads turned to look at where their HUD was telling them to. At that distance, the Category Four wasn’t visible as much more than a gray blob, but oddly enough, there was an intense blue glow coming from it.

“Brightest one I’ve seen so far,” Haruo pointed out.

“Same here, actually. That’s weird,” Raleigh concurred.

Then, alarms. A warning.

“Energy buildup?!”

“Don’t tell me that thing has a beam attack-”

“Wait, this kind of power, the sensor recognizes it!”  
“Oh, no-”

“It’s got an EMP!”

Haruo and Yuko, frazzled, immediately began their descent.

“Aren’t we protected against EMP attacks? After the Muto in 2014-” Raleigh began.

“We won’t be crippled by it,” Yuko said, “But we’ll still be immobile for a good few minutes while everything comes back online. If we’re too high up when that hits us, the fall could be bad.” 

“We’re gonna land in the water, though,” Mako hissed. “Will we still be watertight? I’m pretty sure we will be.”

“Get ready, Gipsy,” Haruo said suddenly, “We’re gonna throw you.”

“Absolutely not!” gasped Mako. “Too much force and we’ll overshoot the water.”

“With all due respect, I wasn’t asking,” Haruo replied. “You need to be as close to Gaghiel as possible when you reboot, and we need to be close to Leatherback.”

Without further preamble, Vulture’s arms hissed as every bit of force in its mechanical muscles swung Gipsy forward and released its grip.

Free of the heavy load, Vulture immediately turned over and gunned it back the way it had come, directly toward where Leatherback was closer to the shore, where the glow at its back was more intense than ever.

Then, all of a sudden, the EMP hit. Vulture, being closest, lost power first, its engines fading to a whisper before ceasing thrust entirely. It slammed into the man-made shallows near the Shatterdome with an immense splash, shaking the Earth for kilometers around and alerting Leatherback to exactly where it needed to go.

Gipsy lost power in the middle of its already barely-controlled fall, though it managed to enter the water feet-first. That caused the first jolt, with the second coming when Gipsy hit the seabed after knifing all the way to the bottom of the Bay.

“You good?” Raleigh called, wasting no time. Then, because their drift was intact, he switched to thought for greater speed.  _ Start the reboots. Prioritize comms, radar, and weapons systems in that order. _

_ On it,  _ Mako thought back, fingers a blur over her control panel.  _ What about movement? _

_ Lowest priority,  _ Raleigh’s response.  _ Gipsy can take a bit of punishment while she’s immobile. What we need to know is where we are, where the Breacher is, and what’s going on. _

_ I think our floodlights are working,  _ Mako thought, curiosity filling their link.  _ I guess we were far enough that not everything was hit. _

She flipped a switch, and the dark waters were filled with light.

In front of them, a colossal, toothy maw.

Mako and Raleigh let out startled screams at Gaghiel’s surprising proximity.

“How big  _ is  _ that?!” Raleigh wondered, flabbergasted.

“I guess this is what constitutes a Category Five,” Mako surmised. “It’s got to be close to the size of a daikaiju.”

“Why isn’t it attacking us?”

“Maybe we’re low-priority if we’re not moving?” Mako chanced. “We must just seem like a building with two people in it with so few systems online. Speaking of which, comms are back.”

Through static,  _ “Gipsy! Status report!” _

“LOCCENT!” Raleigh began. “Glad to see you got your comms up too. We’re fine as far as we can tell, but we’re also getting an eyeful of the Cat Five.”

Outside, Gaghiel’s enormous, almost whale-esque head turned, and a beady eye stared at them, or rather at Gipsy’s face. 

“It’s getting an eyeful of us, too. Seems distracted, which is good. Have you heard from Sakaki or Tani?”

_ “No, but there’s something we’ve been trying to tell you for a couple of minutes now. Electromagnetic interference from Leatherback wouldn’t let us talk to you.” _

“What’s so important?” Mako asked, still flipping switches and running system checks.

“You’ve got reinforcements swimming your way.”

“The Gargantuas?” Raleigh said, confused. “That isn’t news.”

“Negative. Evangelion Unit-02.”

At that moment, there was a second crackle, and a new voice rang out in Raleigh’s and Mako’s ears. One he’d heard before.

“What’s up, Jaeger boy? You miss me?”

Outside, a red-armored fist slammed into Gaghiel’s eye, and the titanic Breacher let out a bellow, distorted by the water. The lanky form of Unit-02 floated into view next as the enemy kaiju retreated a short distance.

“Asuka,” Raleigh replied, “Been a little while, hasn’t it?”

“Won’t be much of a reunion if you two don’t get your shit together,” snarked the teen.

“We’re working on it,” Mako replied.

Asuka’s voice came through surprised. “Mako Mori? You’re in there this time?”

“Nice to see you again, Sohryu-san. Care to hold that thing off while we get Gipsy’s limbs working?”

“I’ll do what I can, but I don’t see myself overpowering this thing,” Asuka confided. “It’s like… five times my size. Kaiju whale.”

Raleigh shrugged. “Kaiju whale. That means it’s probably not very maneuverable, and can’t really hurt you unless you get in its mouth.”

“Meaning?”

“Don’t get in its mouth,” Mako supplied.

“Haruo, get a visual!”

“We  _ have  _ visuals, Yuko,” Haruo groaned, “Our head’s just under the water. Focus on… getting us moving first. We have to stop that thing from getting to shore. Don’t worry about the wings.”

“Okay, reactor’s coming back online. One minute and we should be able to m-”

Yuko was cut off by the entire Jaeger shaking, suddenly impacted from one side. Vulture was pushed onto its back, and even through the dark nighttime waters Haruo and Yuko saw Leatherback glowing above them. Platinum Vulture shook again as its head and shoulders were lifted free of the water, giving them a good look at their foe.

It looked somewhat like a gorilla with a rhinoceros’ skin, several eyes resting beneath bony crests on its forehead. Its face was twisted in a snarl as it inspected Vulture.

“Wait,” Yuko said, “The others told us that Breachers are mentally programmed to target threats. If our reactor’s running, but we’re not moving, does that make us…”

Leatherback roared in their faces, jostling Vulture with one hand, tight grip beginning to dent their shoulder armor.

“That answers that,” Haruo growled. How long?”

“Twenty seconds, Haruo!”

“Come on, you big tub of lard,” snarled Haruo. “Don’t figure it out. Just sit there wondering what we are.”

“Fifteen seconds…”

Leatherback roared again, punching Vulture in the chest.

“Ten seconds…”

Then the Breacher smiled, blue energy crackling on its back. It was going to EMP again.

“Five seconds, Haruo!”

“It won’t matter if it EMPs again!”

Leatherback roared once more, arcs of electricity dancing all around them.

“Three… two… one!”

And suddenly, they could move, and they grabbed at the Breacher’s monstrous wrists to try and pry it off, but the EMP was still coming.

And then, a new hand, clad in blue armor, reached in and took hold of whatever organ was generating the EMP on Leatherback’s back.

“Huh?!”

“Who-”

Evangelion Unit-00.

Rei grimaced. The strangle, glowing sac and its tendrils were rooted in the Breacher’s back rather well. She knew Unit-00 had more than enough strength to rip it out, but the longer it took, the more risk she ran of being batted aside by the bulkier creature.

Then there was a disgusting squelch, and Rei staggered as the organ came free, crackling in her hands. “Oh.”

Leatherback released Vulture and whirled to face Unit-00, screaming in primal fury and pain. Raising itself onto its hind legs for a moment, the Breacher beat its own chest before dropping back onto all fours and roaring.

“Oh, you think you’re King Kong?” Haruo growled as Platinum Vulture surged to its feet, “That’s just disrespectful.”

He deployed his arm’s railgun and shot right at the open wound the Eva had created, prompting Leatherback to turn yet  _ again, _ but this time the beast didn’t bother with intimidation and simply scooped Vulture up in a crushing bear hug. They completed one full revolution before Leatherback released the Jaeger, sending it flying in the general direction of Unit-00. Rei ducked.

For the second time in a short while, Platinum Vulture took a bit of a fall, this time rolling, much to its pilots’ discomfort. When they finally came to a stop, Haruo had to shake his head to clear the mild nausea.

“How are our… comms, Yuko?”

In answer, a calm, young voice spoke in their ears after a short burst of static. “...tinum Vulture. Platinum Vulture. Do you read?”

“We read you, Evangelion Unit,” Yuko replied. “To whom am I speaking?”

“Pilot Rei Ayanami. I presume you two would be Ranger Yuko Tani and Ranger Haruo Sakaki?”

“Correct,” Haruo said, rebooting their wings, “So, what do you say we rip this bastard apart and go help Gipsy?”

“I do not agree with your language,” replied Rei, lifting a pistol from an oversized holster, “However, I concur with the sentiment.”

Leatherback charged, screaming furiously. Rei hefted the gun and shot it in one of its six eyes. That was an eye gone, but that only seemed to make the thing angrier as it swung a huge fist.

Rei simply jumped over the slow, telegraphed attack, then brought Unit-00’s hand down in a chopping motion right onto Leatherback’s collarbone, snapping it. Another roar of pain.

“Damage to the shoulder girdle should weaken its arm strength,” Rei told them. “Breachers lack regeneration, yes?”

“That’s right,” Yuko replied as Vulture’s wing engines came back online, one by one. “It’s why they’re so easy to kill, for kaiju. The problem is they don’t give up until they’re dead.”

Unit-00’s shoulder pylon opened, and Rei drew the prog knife. “Perhaps it would be quickest to simply sever its tendons.”

With an artificial roar, Platinum Vulture lifted into the air. “Well,” Haruo chimed in, “History shows that the quickest way would be to rip off its head. Though this one’s got a thick neck, so maybe your plan is best.”

_ “Vulture! Do you copy?” _

Haruo blinked. “Marshal Aso.”

_ “What took you so much longer to make contact, rookie?!” _

“Sir, we were a little preoccupied,” Yuko said helpfully.

_ “Whatever. The Gargantuas have split up. One is heading for the Cat Five, and one is moving your way.” _

“I hope it’s the brown one,” Haruo muttered.

“Sanda,” Rei supplied, sounding oddly distant. “The brown one is Sanda.”

“That’s the friendly one, right?”

“I believe he is rather fond of humans, yes,” replied Rei, dodging around another hook from Leatherback’s good arm.

“Let’s give him less work to do,” Haruo intoned. “Take this thing out as efficiently as possible while taking as few hits as possible.”

“I do rather enjoy minimizing risks,” Rei said, a hint of a smile crossing her face as she dodged past Leatherback and dragged the knife through its skin. 

“This is kind of a big, dumb brute, isn’t it?” Haruo mused as they strafed the Breacher from high above. “I mean, they all are, but this one especially.”

“True,” Yuko noted. “Once the Jaeger Program was in full swing, they sort of ceased to be a threat, even the bigger Categories like this.”

“Of course, two at once makes things difficult,” Rei chimed in. “Perhaps that is their new strategy: to simply overwhelm the PPDC with sheer numbers.”

“But whatever put these things down there,” began Haruo, “Why would they make their mass-produced bioweapons so... ineffective?”

“Worry about that when we’re not fighting one, senpai,” Yuko teased as they swooped down, kicked Leatherback in the head, then ascended out of its reach.

“You two are… rather cavalier about this, no?” Rei remarked as she snapped the monster’s other collarbone. “Is this not a matter of life and death?”

Haruo snorted. “This thing? Cannon fodder. Vulture came out of a fight with Megaguirus and Rodan yesterday with minimal damage, I think this is something it can handle.”

“And here I got thrown around rather effortlessly by Gigan,” Rei said. “Seems I have much to learn.”

“You’re young,” Yuko said. “You’ve got time.”

Unit-00 shrugged, then sidestepped Leatherback’s foolish charge to catch the Breacher in a headlock. “I suppose you have a point. Shall we finish this?”

“Good idea. Let’s go help Gipsy and… Unit-02, is it?” Yuko said cheerily, landing Vulture as the Jaeger’s hand morphed into a Plasma-caster. The railguns were better for long-range, but up close, there was nothing better against the Breachers.

Yuko lifted the sparking weapon to Leatherback’s face as the monster, oblivious to its impending demise, roared and thrashed in Unit-00’s unyielding hold. “Hm. Take away the EMP, and you’re not much, are you?”

Three plasma bolts later and the Category Four was still, nothing left of its face but a blackened mess. Rei released the corpse, letting it settle in the shallows with a resounding thud.

“Need a lift to Tokyo Bay?” Haruo asked, extending Vulture’s hand. “This thing’s pretty fast.”

“So is this Eva,” Rei replied, a note of pride in her tone. “I’ll make it there just fine.”

“Ah,” said Yuko. “Maybe we’ll give him a lift, then.”

“Who?” Rei asked, turning around. What she saw startled her.

At the edge of the artificial seafloor, near the deep water, was a giant person. Not a humanoid like the Jaegers or the Evas, not a hyper-evolved ape like Kong, but a creature with the exact silhouette of a human being. Of course, as the being moved toward them with long strides, the differences became apparent. Namely, the shaggy brown fur covering its body.

“Sanda,” Rei said, the word transmitted through Unit-00’s speakers. The kaiju in question actually nodded in response.

“Oh, shit,” Haruo whispered. “He knows his name.”

“The Gargantuas were raised as people until they started growing to kaiju size,” Yuko supplied. “Even if they’ve lost their grasp of how to speak it, they still know human language.”

Vulture’s engines flared, and it lifted a dozen or so meters above the water before extending a hand. “Sanda? Would you like a ride to your brother?” 

Sanda nodded and took the outstretched metal hand in his own hand of flesh. Rei just watched, a little awestruck, as the Jaeger lifted Sanda into the air and made for the other, doubtlessly fiercer battle going on beneath the waters of Tokyo Bay.

She actually took her hand off the Eva’s yokes to rub her red eyes for a moment, feeling a bit tired. Then it was back to business, and she broke into a sprint, jumping into the deeper water, before beginning a rapid swim toward Unit-02’s signal.

There was a whole lot of blood in the water, most of it glowing neon blue.

Two fighting machines, one with dual wrist-mounted chain swords, one holding what was essentially a super-sized katana.

One colossal “kaiju whale”, Gaghiel, covered in gashes and wounds, missing an eye, but still very much alive and trying to eat them both.

“Why do I feel like we’re not making any progress?” Raleigh grumbled. 

“Blubbery bastard, this one,” Asuka.growled. “I don’t think either of us have hit bone yet.”

“At least it hasn’t pushed us back very far,” commented Mako, “We’re holding the line pretty well considering how big it is.”

“But you two can’t keep this up forever,” Asuka said, “Unit-02 runs without a finite power source, but your Jaeger doesn’t have a self-sustaining reactor, does it?”

“Yes, we’ve got about two hours of activity on a full ‘charge’, but that drops to half an hour with submersion.”

“Then we’ve got twenty-five minutes to show Ahab how it’s done,” Asuka said haughtily.

“Did you just reference  _ Moby Dick? _ ” groaned Raleigh. “Do that after we’ve killed it.”

“How are we gonna do that, smart guy?”

“I’m workin’ on it!” Raleigh replied. “In the meantime, let’s keep it here.”

As they spoke, Gaghiel backed up, likely intending a head charge. It had tried that before, and the two fighting machines had just managed to halt it by digging their weapons into the floor of the Bay.

But, as Gipsy and Unit-02 readied to stand their ground again, they found that the Breacher’s charge never came.

Even the monster looked confused as it lurched in the water, trying to swim forward but going nowhere. Confused, Raleigh and Mako gunned Gipsy’s back-mounted thrusters as they pushed off the seafloor, shining their floodlights at the Breacher’s mighty tail.

The monster holding it snarled, baring great fangs in his lower jaw as the lights shone directly into his eyes.

“Holy shit!” 

“Whattya see?” Asuka asked.

“It’s Gaira,” Mako said. “The Green Gargantua.”

“Where? I don’t see it!”

“Behind the Breacher,” Raleigh said. “He’s got it by the tail and the thing doesn’t seem like it can get him off.”

“Holding it still? Then it’s a sitting duck for us to hack away until we get to its brain.”

“Or,” Mako began, “We can keep thinking until we find a way to kill it fast.”

Then, a new voice over comms. “How about we help with that?”

Glittering under the floodlights, the lithe silver form of Platinum Vulture plunged into the depths, followed shortly by none other than the Brown Gargantua, Sanda. 

“Great, we’ve got a basketball team,” muttered Raleigh. “Still no way to get through this thing’s fat.”

“We need to find the skull, right?” Haruo suggested, “Just go for the mouth, then. The jaws are part of the skull.”

Asuka chimed in, “I’m not exactly dying to test this thing’s bite force.”

Then, before any of them could suggest anything else, Sanda rushed forward and seized Gaghiel’s lips, arms straining as he pulled down on the monster’s lower jaw.

“A volunteer,” Rei deadpanned.

Sanda growled, searching for a handhold that wasn’t all teeth even as the Category Five Breacher thrashed, making things difficult for Gaira at its tail.

“Okay, Sanda’s got itsjaw,” Mako started, taking charge, “Evas, Vulture, try and hold it still. We’ll look for a weak spot in its mouth.”

Asuka turned to look at Unit-00. “All right, come on, wonder-girl. We’ve got a white whale to hunt.”

“Pilot Sohryu, did you just reference  _ Moby Dick? _ ” Rei asked as the pair of them flanked Gaghiel.

“Don’t you quip at me!”

Sanda, meanwhile, gave up on a safe handhold and simply allowed the monster’s teeth to punch through his palms with a strangled grunt, trying not to let the breath he was holding escape. He was not as aquatically adapted as his brother, after all. As it turned out, the Brown Gargantua could only open Gaghiel’s maw so wide with the strength in his arms.

So, reluctantly, he put his foot in its mouth, taking care to step  _ over  _ the teeth. Sanda growled deep in his chest and pushed, gradually forcing its jaw wider and wider until it would go no further. The beast, for its part, simply thrashed and bellowed like the wounded animal it was.

“Mouth’s open,” Raleigh informed everyone, “But we don’t have a clear shot, Sanda had to pretty much get in there.”

“Then are we just fucked?” Asuka cried, strain in her voice as Unit-02 tried to hold Gaghiel still, to which Rei mumbled, “Language.”

“There isn’t enough of a gap?” Haruo growled, his voice, too, thin from effort.

“No, but…” began Mako, before switching to just drift thoughts,  _ Wait a minute. The Gargantuas have the most effective regeneration ever observed, don’t they? _

_ Uh-huh. _

_ I don’t exactly want to, but hurting him would not mean much in the long run, right? _

_ Oh… gross. At least warn the guy first. _

The pair of them guided Gipsy up behind the steadfast kaiju and gently tapped a fist against his back. The mutated human turned to look over his shoulder as the mech repeated the action. Sanda’s brows furrowed as he understood, but after a short pause, he nodded, steeling himself.

A thruster hidden in Gipsy’s elbow ignited.

A mighty metal fist rushed through the water.

Crimson blood spilled, mixed with the glowing Breacher Blue, and Sanda’s held breath escaped not through his mouth, but the hole the Jaeger had punched clean through his body.

“Sorry about this,” Mako said through Gipsy’s speakers as she converted its bloody fist into the Plasmacaster while Raleigh steadied Sanda with their free hand.

Gaghiel screamed as Mako emptied every charge the Caster had into the roof of the monster’s mouth, quickly chewing through flesh and bone to boil the kaiju-whale’s proportionally tiny brain.

She only stopped firing when it ceased struggling, then changed Gipsy’s hand back and yanked it out of Sanda as quickly as possible. This sent an even bigger dark cloud of the Gargantua’s blood into the water, but the hole was already visibly closing as they watched.

A sudden impact rocked the Conn Pod as Gaira elbowed Gipsy right in the head, pushing the mech away as he rushed to cradle his wounded brother. For a moment, the monster and machine stood opposed, but in the end Gaira shook his head and began to swim away, up toward the surface of the water to get some air in his brother’s lungs.

The Evas and Jaegers reconvened by the corpse of Gaghiel, which itself was already beginning to float upward. Platinum Vulture looked the worst for wear out of the four of them, though it had fallen out of the sky not long before.

“So,” Asuka began, breaking the tired silence, “What was the story with this one?”

“Category Five, the first ever seen,” replied Raleigh. “Not to mention it appeared at the same time as the other one, and in the same place.”

Rei joined in, “Two Breachers appeared at once? Is this the first time that has happened?” 

“As far as I know,” said Mako.

Haruo frowned. “Apparently the Breachers have also started coming more frequently over the last month or so. Maybe this is the next step? Two at once?”

“That’s worrying,” Yuko muttered. “Especially if all of them have Category Fives. It took all four of us and both Gargantuas to kill Gaghiel.”

“And Rodan and Megaguirus both showed up yesterday.”

“Guess things are finally starting to pick up.”

Asuka chuckled. “No need to worry. The world didn’t have people like us last time there were kaiju everywhere.”

“Fair point,” Mako conceded.

“The First Age was humanity trying to survive and defend itself against kaiju,” Rei said quietly. “This time, we have the means to not only do so, but wage a proper war.”

Hibiki stumbled through the automatic doors, ignoring the stitch in her side. Tsubasa and Chris turned to face her, even as Genjuro glared at the big screen in front of them.

“D-did you find something?” gasped Hibiki, “Did you find Miku?”

Genjuro turned then, a smile on his face. “Ah, Hibiki-kun. I wouldn’t say we’ve found her, exactly, but… we know that she’s alive.”

Hibiki smiled too, through tears. “I told you all. I just knew she couldn’t be dead.”

“Don’t celebrate just yet,” Chris muttered. “You’re not gonna like where she is.”

Tsubasa explained, “We received an encrypted video transmission about an hour ago from Finé’s Super X-3. For whatever reason, they’ve dropped their cloaking, which means we can track them now.”

“Play it, Tomosato,” Genjuro said.

“Yes, sir.”

Up on the screen, a video window opened, and the footage appeared to have been recorded on a webcam. There was a small room, and a familiar man in a chair.

_ “This thing on?”  _ asked Dr. Ver.  _ “Ah, good.” _

Hibiki’s breath caught in her throat.

_ “Well, then. Greetings, Special Operations for the Neutralization of Gigafauna. S.O.N.G. How long did it take you lot to come up with a name that would let you use that acronym?” _

“I thought it was clever,” grumbled Fujitaka.

_ “At any rate. You know me, super-genius Dr. Ver. And you also know this girl.” _

Onscreen Ver reached toward the camera, and after a moment, it swiveled and a glass cage came into view. And within the cage was unmistakably Miku, looking a bit unkempt but otherwise unharmed.

_ “She would be dead if we hadn’t intervened, you know. She’s still here because it’s convenient, but I assume you would rather have her back, wouldn’t you?” _

Ver reentered the frame, growing smaller as he walked back to lean on the cage.  _ “Mind telling them how well we’ve been treating you? I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.” _

Miku glared at the scientist, but then put on a smile as she addressed the camera.  _ “Hi, Hibiki, Chris, Tsubasa. I’m fine, they’ve been feeding me and even giving me pillows and stuff at night. The food’s not great, though. I’ve asked them to let me do the cooking, but that got shot down.” _

Hibiki found herself giggling in spite of herself, joy filling her thanks to this knowledge that Miku was still Miku.

_ “Now, on to business,”  _ Ver said, adjusting his glasses,  _ “Taking hostages isn’t really my style. Sure, I’m taking the whole world hostage with the ORCA and kaiju, but that’s random, dispassionate. This girl being here makes things personal, and I’m not a fan of that.” _

Chris scoffed. “This is where shit gets real annoying.”

_ “So I propose a trade. Next time we land- and I know you can track us now- you meet us there, and we give you back this girl. In exchange, all I ask for are your Gears.” _

“See what I mean?”

_ “And I mean all three. Ame-no-Habakiri and Ichaival, obviously, but I’d like to have a look at your resident fusion. Genius that I am, I might be able to work out a way to remove the fragments from Tachibana-san’s body safely.” _

Hibiki brushed her fingers over her scar beneath which the bits of Gungnir rested, wondering if Ver could actually manage something like that.

_ “And don’t worry, it’s not like Kohinata-san here’s life is on the line. If you don’t show, we’ll just keep her with us, safe and sound as we go about our mission. And if you come at us guns blazing to  _ take  _ her back, just know you will fail. I won’t spoil the surprise, but you have no chance.” _

“Bullshit,” whispered Genjuro, in a rare display of temper.

_ “So keep an eye on where we’re headed, because we won’t be on the ground for long. Or rather,  _ under _ ground. What better place to meet with the likes of you folk than the Hollow Earth, where few men dare to tread?” _

And just like that, the video was over.

Hibiki whirled on the Commander. “We’re going in guns blazing, right?”

“ _ We  _ are, Hibiki-kun,” Genjuro replied, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You, though, you’re in no condition to fight. It’s lucky that you only had Gungnir on for a moment yesterday, or you’d be bedridden.”

“But that’s my best friend!”

Chris elbowed Tsubasa, and when she had her attention, made air quotes as she mouthed “best friend” in a mimicry of Hibiki. Tsubasa, always a bit socially clueless, didn’t understand what she was getting at.

“Listen, Tachibana,” Tsubasa began, “I swear on my honor as a guardian that we will bring Kohinata back. You don’t need to worry.”

“Personally, I’m more worried that we’re meeting them somewhere in the Hollow Earth. It’s nasty down there, plus… I don’t think HQ can make it there.” Chris mused.

“You’re right, it can’t,” Genjuro relented. “I’ll have to call in a favor for different transportation.”

“This is it, isn’t it?” Hibiki asked. “This is going to be our last battle with them.”

“That’s right,” stated Genjuro. “We’re going to put a stop to Finé once and for all.”

**CHAPTER XVI: Double Event One**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A variety of real-world factors collaborated to make finishing this chapter rather hellish. In addition, my fall semester starts in a couple of weeks. As such, TNAoM's update schedule may shift from "once a week" to "whenever I manage to finish a chapter". Depends on the workload I end up dealing with. As far as the immediate future, the first arc of this fic is reaching its climax. Next three or so chapters are gonna be pretty much all Symphogear, and for those of you who have been wondering what Big G is up to, he's also a big player. I'd love to have Godzilla in every chapter, but I feel like that would kind of lessen the impact of occasions where he DOES appear.  
> Thanks for reading and commenting, as always. Your support gives me life. Stay safe and healthy out there.


	17. CHAPTER XVII: Distortions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sung in this chapter is "Bye-Bye Lullaby". You know the drill.

_The discovery of the Hollow Earth during the Skull Island expedition of 1973 was a major shock to the scientific community, having long since dismissed the theory. Of course, “Hollow Earth” is a bit of a misnomer, as the original Hollow Earth Theory suggests the planet as having an enormous cavity in its center, while the known phenomenon commonly referred to as the “Hollow Earth” is in fact a massively expansive network of connected tunnels throughout the crust, the thinnest and topmost layer of the planet. With the tunnels’ discovery, MONARCH received a grant to explore the underground system, and even their preliminary expeditions revealed a shocking truth: the Hollow Earth contained an entirely separate ecosystem from the world above, sheltered from changes in climate and human-driven extinctions. Particularly common in the Hollow Earth were species observed on Skull Island, such as Skullcrawlers and their kaiju-sized counterparts the Skulldevils, Sker Buffalo and Sirenjaws, and of course a myriad of dinosaurs._

_But the most shocking discovery of all? There had, at one point, been_ humans _living down there._

**From** **_The Essential Guide to the World of Kaiju,_ ** **published 2004.**

  
  


**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


Miki was running out of painkillers. They were also losing their effectiveness, which was making matters worse. The migraines had ceased to be dull throbs and had evolved into significantly more debilitating, sharp pains, like Godzilla’s jaw was clamped around her skull. She’d thrown up on several occasions, and once been forced to hold still and do absolutely nothing for much longer than she would have liked.

However, Miki knew she only had herself to blame. Digging around in Godzilla’s memories via their telepathic link was, in hindsight, a terrible idea. She had learned much, that was true, found out things about the elusive monster that would have been impossible for anyone else to discover. Flashes of memory, of times long past. She’d seen through his eyes when he was much smaller, a scant fifty feet off the ground. She’d watched him among his kind in several different eras of prehistory, watched the species grow and adapt with the times. They came in all kinds of colors; black, brown, tan, every shade of blue, deep red and rich green, Miki had even made out a pale albino. It was fascinating.

Then _he_ had discovered her. Felt her rooting around in the back of his mind. Before, she had felt his emotions, knew what his mood was every time it changed. But that was nothing compared to the sensation of Godzilla turning his wrath on her _directly._ Miki guessed the pain was similar to that of a stroke, but unlike a stroke, she was not offered the mercy of passing out or dying. There was just a mental projection of that roar, and her head felt like it was splitting open.

And then, all of a sudden, it was over. Nothing but the lingering echo of agony and Miki’s memories of Godzilla’s memories. Despite the throbbing in her temples, she’d rushed to sketch the “other Godzillas”, making use of her photographic memory.

Eventually, wholly exhausted, the telepath had set down her pencil and rested her head on her desk, looking out her apartment’s window as she tried to force down the headache again, but to no avail. She had created the link with Godzilla, but _he_ was the one _maintaining_ it, even if he wasn’t doing so intentionally. His brain was simply so powerful that it kept the bridge between their minds sound subconsciously.

Miki had a revelation at that. Of _course_ his brain could do that; humans and kaiju had once been much, much closer, tens of millennia ago. Her own telepathy had to have once been a common trait among humans, one that allowed them to more easily communicate with each other and with kaiju. A universal language, of sorts.

_Maybe there’s a bit of truth to the story of Babel, after all,_ Miki mused. _We tried to rise to the level of the gods, the kaiju… and lost our unity as punishment. But what if someone were born without the gift, way back then?_

Miki straightened, brow furrowed in both contemplation and pain. “Were they just outcast from human-kaiju societies? I could try and look in Godzilla’s head again when I have more energy...”

Then, once more, she had a thought, and actually laughed at herself for not thinking of it sooner. “It’s music. A kaiju’s bioacoustics are their ‘song’. So humans without telepathy must have used music to communicate- that’s why instruments are a common thread connecting ancient civilizations, why myths and legends were able to be passed down before a universal writing system!”

Miki was possessed by the overwhelming urge to leap to her feet and shout “Eureka!”, but suppressed the idea as she remembered just how badly her head was hurting. And, in the absence of the euphoria of discovery, Miki’s thoughts took a downturn.

“If only there were more people like me,” she fretted, looking at her sketch of Godzilla’s kin, “If humans could communicate properly, with each other _and_ with kaiju… maybe we wouldn’t be in this Age of Monsters mess.”

Miku collapsed to her knees for the second time in so many hours, surrounded by faint wisps of energy as sweat dripped from her chin and her clothes reformed on her body. The red pendant dangling from her neck caught the light unassumingly as, outside her glass cage, Dr. Ver clucked his tongue.

“Kohinata-san, you won’t sychronize with the Gear if you don’t _want_ to,” he said, waving his pen around. “If you keep fighting it, you’ll put undue strain on your body no matter how much LiNKER’s reinforcing you.”

“Why would I _want_ to wear this?!” Miku asked, glaring fiercely at her captor. “I’m only doing it because you’re making me!”

“I am not ‘making’ you do anything,” Ver grumbled, adding air quotes for emphasis. “Absolutely all of this is voluntary, Kohinata-san. I asked you to let me run some tests on you, and you never refused. If you assumed you _had_ to do what I said, that’s on you.”

Miku eyed him, distrust all over her features. “I don’t believe you.”

Ver sighed, throwing his hands up in the air. “Look, kid. I might be trying to completely upend the status quo by letting kaiju rampage as they please across the Earth, but that doesn’t make me a _bad person._ ”

“Everybody you’ve gotten killed so far would probably disagree.”

“Well, obviously they’d be biased. But we’re straying from my point. These tests, you synchronizing with Shénshòujìng, I’m not doing them to torment you. I’m trying to _help_ you.” 

“Explain,” Miku deadpanned, still not buying it.

“That little message I recorded for your friends? Every word of it was the truth. But I know they’re not going to just give up their Gears. Tachibana-san is biologically _incapable_ of doing so, in fact.”

“Then not everything you said was true!” protested Miku. “You said you could take it out of her!”

Ver corrected her, “I said I’d figure out a way to. And I have. That pendant around your neck, Shénshòujìng? It’s a special relic, designed to eradicate other relics. We can use it to purge Tachibana-san of her little case of Gungnir cancer.”

“Are you serious?” Miku breathed, hardly believing what she was hearing. “This Gear can cure Hibiki?”

“If you can envelop her entire body in its purifying light, yes. In theory, anyway. That’s why you need to synchronize with it; we don’t have anybody capable of wielding a Symphogear.”

“So, what, you want to cure Hibiki out of the goodness of your heart?”

Dr. Ver took off his glasses to rub at his sinuses for a moment. “I’m going to be as clear as I can right now. Your friend Hibiki Tachibana, as a human-relic fusion, is the biggest threat to our operation here. Curing her Gungnir cancer means destroying the relic itself, which removes her as a threat with the secondary effect of saving her life. If she keeps fighting us, not only will it very likely mean the end of us, but she _will_ kill herself.”

Miku’s face went through a range of emotions, finally settling on a frown with downcast eyes. “I… don’t want that… but saving her makes things easier for you.”

“And that’s _your_ little moral dilemma, Kohinata-san,” Ver continued, a sudden and unhinged smile crossing his face. “You could let Tachibana-san die, allowing her to put a stop to us, or you can save your loved one’s life, but clear a path for our humble organization.”

Miku sighed, head in her hands. “This is the trolley problem.”

Ver tilted his head in acknowledgement. “I suppose it is. The question is, will you pull the lever or not?”

“It doesn’t matter,” murmured Miku. “You said that Gear is weak, right? How will I be able to purify Hibiki if I can’t keep up with her?”

Ver lifted a finger, a smug smirk overtaking his face. “That, dear girl, is where my genius comes in. You’ve heard of the PPDC’s Jaeger Program, have you not? Are you familiar with how the mechas’ two-pilot system functions?”

Miku frowned. “Don’t they link the pilots’ minds?”

“Correct again. I’m glad you’re not uncultured,” replied Ver. “This is where my unrivaled genius comes in. I have engineered a system based on their drift tech that, when linked to your brain, will augment your reaction time, reflexes, coordination, and even upload martial arts skills directly to your memories.”

Miku blinked slowly. “Like… kung fu.”

“Er… yes?”

“You put this whatever-it-is on me, and I’ll just… know kung fu.” 

“Well, really, it’ll depend on what your Armed Gear ends up being,” grumbled Ver, “Enough dancing around things. Are you in or are you out?”

Miku looked at the floor, listened to the hum of the great aircraft’s engines. Went over everything in her head. The options she had been presented with, and the consequences of either choice. 

Miku decided that she would do anything to make sure Hibiki survived.

“...I’ll do it,” she whispered. “I’ll wield Shénshòujìng.”

Ver laughed his madman’s laugh again. “Welcome aboard, Kohinata-san.”

Just outside the room, leaning against the wall, an eavesdropper smiled a cruel, dead smile.

The human race is meant for the ground. It knows the ground rather well, even. The land is familiar, warm and solid. Even the primal wilderness of the Hollow Earth caverns were just another part of home. The human race evolved to be suited for the land, and as such finds difficulty surviving anywhere else. They cannot deal with the windy chaos and fluctuating temperatures of the upper atmosphere, and they certainly cannot last long in the deepest depths of the ocean.

The ocean is the most unexplored place on Earth. Humanity knows more about the surface of the Moon, or Mars, than it does the seas of its home. MONARCH Outpost 54 had been a landmark venture into the depths, one that, for a time, had been successful.

And it was those crushing depths that Godzilla had always called home.

It was freezing cold so far below the ocean’s surface, but a nuclear fire always burned within him, keeping him warm. It was that warmth, coupled with the pale blue bioluminescence of his spines, that often drew the denizens of the deep out to swim beside him. Over the ages, he’d been accompanied by all kinds. Great marine reptiles, enormous fish, every evolutionary stage of both sharks and whales, giant cephalopods, other seafaring kaiju, and, of course, his kin.

His fellows, many of them bigger than he used to be and all varying wildly in appearance from him with many colors and spine shapes. They had often remarked to him that his dark colors probably meant that he was born for the abyssal plains, but Godzilla didn’t really believe in that idea, the concept humans called “destiny”. He was the master of his own fate.

That was why he still lived. Even as that strange weapon ripped the flesh from his bones and dissolved his organs into nothing, Godzilla had sworn that he was not finished. And so his will had seeped into his very cells, the ones that remained living deep in his marrow, and they’d immediately set to work. Regeneration had been slow going at first, but over the course of an agonizing month he had been able to unconsciously, on pure survival instinct rather than higher thought, drag his torn-to-ribbons body, more bone in a hole-filled bag of skin than anything else, out to the open sea and ride the currents to his resting place in the deeps. 

With a source of radiation down there, the healing had gone much more smoothly. In fact, it had gone past healing, and he had _grown_ into a far larger and mightier form, adapted to properly handle and utilize the new, man-made radiation that coursed through his body.

Of course, he hadn’t expected everyone else to be bigger and stronger as well. Rodan had explained why, and while it was a perfectly understandable reason, it still made Godzilla’s blood boil.

The humans had simply gotten too good at fighting back. The kaiju had had no choice but to fall back, rest, and evolve. The humans stubbornly kept up their resistance, instead of submitting and settling back into their place at the feet of their Gods.

Godzilla wished he hadn’t slept through it all. That First Age, those decades of monsters that he unknowingly caused. Had he been there, things might have gone differently. They might not still be in this mess.

He didn’t want to end them. A species like them, so small and frail and yet as smart as the kaiju, should have possessed great potential. But the only thing they’d done with it was destroy Mother Earth. If they didn’t get themselves in line, and continued to ignore the warnings of the kaiju, they would have no choice but to snuff the species out.

Even if they succeeded in that, though… the humans had left behind reminders of their mistakes that would long outlast them as a species.

Like the one Godzilla was swimming towards.

The beast had scarcely finished clawing its way free of the seafloor when Godzilla fell upon it. He had encountered these creatures a few times before, prior to him turning his back on the humans and departing for a nap deep in the Hollow Earth. He knew their ferocity, their tenacity, their stinging, glowing blood.

He also knew that they were weaklings. It hadn’t taken him too much effort to destroy them back then, at less than half his current size. Now that he eclipsed the Breacher’s mass by a wide margin, he found himself wondering if the thing could even scratch him.

He sort of danced around it, testing to see if it was anything special compared to its brethren whom Godzilla had dispatched. Thus far, the nuclear leviathan was unimpressed.

Then, something happened. He heard something, a sound that he knew was impossible, one he shouldn’t ever be able to hear again, but one that instinctively stirred joy deep in his chest.

The call of his kind. His kin.

The moment of naive distraction passed when the Breacher’s jaws clamped around Godzilla’s neck. Its teeth did not break his skin thanks to the thick layer of quill-like scales that protected it. The pressure was still a bit annoying, though, so Godzilla reached up and pried the smaller monster’s jaws apart, then broke them with a quick flex of his mighty arms. The Breacher screamed in agony until Godzilla took hold of its head again, and twisted until the beast fell silent.

A snort sent bubbles from his snout as he looked around the depths, just barely illuminated by the blue shine of his spines. Trying to remember which direction the cry had come from. He had, of course, already deduced its origin; the humans’ mimicking device. The only question he had was, how could they be foolish enough to try and lure _him_ out?

It had also been a short-lived sound, so perhaps it had been accidental. Even so, that meant they had figured out a way to mimic his kind.

Just how much arrogance, how much sheer audacity, does a species need to imitate and make a mockery of the creatures it has killed?

Accident or no, Godzilla decided, he was going to track them down and grind that accursed contraption to dust beneath his heel.

A few swishes of his titanic crocodilian tail, and the great monster was pointed at where he’d last heard the call.

Fresh anger alight in his heart, Godzilla made for the Hollow Earth.

“Commander, we’ve just picked up a strange signal.” Fujitaka suddenly piped up, glancing the redheaded man’s way from his mobile workstation.

Genjuro blinked. “‘Strange’ isn’t a very good descriptor. What are we dealing with?”

“Well, it was a frequency from close by, where we’re tracking Finé, so probably the ORCA,” replied the technician, “But it wasn’t like any of the calls we’ve picked up before, and it only lasted about zero-point-seven seconds.”

“Testing a new frequency, probably,” Tomosato provided, “They don’t know that we’re practically on top of them.”

“Only because we’re not drilling,” added Fujitaka. “It’s a lucky thing these tunnels are so wide.”

“They were dug by kaiju, remember?” Genjuro reminded them. “Though we wouldn’t be having such an easy time traversing them without this.”

“ _This,_ ” repeated Tomosato, referring to the tank-like vehicle they were using to traverse the tunnels of the Hollow Earth. “Remind me how you came to acquire… _this?_ ”

“I didn’t acquire it, I just won a bet.”

“And an arm-wrestling contest,” came a new voice in front of them. “You have no reason to be as strong as you are.”

“Eyes on the road, Shinjo,” Genjuro replied playfully. “Remember how easily this thing got messed up last time it was in the field?”

“Don’t remind me,” the pilot, Shinjo, said. “Land Moguera took a helluva beating. Not as bad as Star Falcon, though. Guess Godzilla likes to go for the legs.”

“Why’d they even bother repairing it after what happened?” Tomosato asked. “Seems to me like she’s a bit obsolete.”

“This is what Land Moguera was originally designed to do,” said Shinjo. “Been driving around the Hollow Earth since before it was the top half of an anti-kaiju mecha.”

“How’d it manage that?” Fujitaka asked, cringing as they went over a nasty bump. 

“Well, for one thing, it was newer,” Shinjo replied. “For another, its weapons systems were all online to deal with the things down here. Good thing you all have a way to make up for that not being the case.”

Genjuro nodded, casting his eyes to the ceiling of the cockpit. “I hope those two are doing okay out there.”

“Where are all the freaky monsters?” Chris asked Tsubasa over the rumble of the machine’s treads. “I thought the Hollow Earth was like… ground zero for all the megafauna we fight.”

“They aren’t often in tunnels, Yukine,” replied the blue-haired guardian, “We’re more likely to find a Skullcrawler or dinosaur in one of the big caverns. The one we’re headed for is uninhabited, too. You and I are out here as a precaution.”

“I’m bored,” pouted the wielder of Ichaval. “Sitting down in this Gear isn’t exactly comfortable.”

“Then stand?” Tsubasa suggested.

“You’re a bigger pain in my ass than these bumps in the road, sword diva.” 

“‘Sword diva’?” mused Tsubasa, “Whatever happened to ‘senpai’, Yukine?” 

Chris turned to her, looking confused. “When have I ever called you that?”

“The concert, when we first fought Maria and the others. Do you truly not remember?”

“Really doesn’t sound like somethin’ I would say.”

Tsubasa frowned. “Are you… embarrassed, Yukine? I don’t really mind if you call me that, you know. It’s not like I’m… _not_ your senpai.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chris waved her off as Land Moguera rounded a corner, its floodlights illuminating another kilometer of tepid tunnel, “It’d just feel weird. That’s like, something normal people would call other people.”

“Really, Yukine,” Tsubasa insisted, tapping her Armed Gear against the vehicle’s hull, “I’m rather fond of the idea of you addressing me as ‘senpai’.”

“Fine,” replied the shorter woman, “If it’ll shut you up.”

The sound of a Symphogear vanishing, and the gasps of its wielder, reached their ears again. 

“What’s happening to her, dess?” whispered Kirika. “Why are they doing that to her?”

“I don’t know,” came Shirabe’s equally quiet reply, “But I don’t like it. Where did they find her, and why is she helping us?”

Kirika nodded. “It seems real fishy, dess.”

“It’s all suspicious,” Shirabe murmured, “This isn’t what Mom and Maria said we’d be doing.”

“What _are_ we doing?” asked Kirika.

“The way I saw it, we were making sure there would never be anywhere like the FIS again,” came the dark-haired girl’s response, “But… how many kids like us are we going to make in the process?”

“Like us?”

“Orphans, Kiri-chan. We might have been molded into soldiers, but even if we hadn’t… we’d still be parentless.”

“Do you think we’re… doing the wrong thing, dess?” Kirika asked.

“I’m… starting to think so. Maybe we have the right idea, but…”

“But what?”

Kirika almost screamed as the pair of them whipped around to find that they had an eavesdropper. A tall, balding, British one.

“How did you sneak up on us like that, dess?!” she demanded.

“Stealth is the name of the game in my line of work, children.” Jonah explained. “Though I’d be better at it if I were Houtua.”

“How much of that did you hear?” intoned Shirabe, glaring at the man she so distrusted.

Jonah threw the pair a nasty sneer. “How much did you say?”

Kirika pulled her pendant from her shirt. “I-I’m not scared of you, dess!”

“But of course. With those Gears on, the two of you could overpower me quite easily. But will you risk drawing on their power when each use lifts Finé’s genetic memories closer to the surface?”

Shirabe blinked as Kirika paled.

“Yes,” Jonah hissed as the sound of an activation chant echoed the room over, “I know all about that woman and her neat little reincarnation ability. And I know Lady Eve doesn’t have the Finé gene. One of you does.”

Shirabe frowned. “Then one of us is going to have our consciousness overridden?”

“As I understand it, yes. Between that and your newfound... conscience, perhaps you don’t want to be part of this operation any more?”

“We were just… following Mom and Maria,” Kirika mumbled. “It made sense when they were explaining it to us.”

“You’re children,” scoffed the eco-terrorist, “Unused to having agency. Is this truly the first choice you plan to make? We may continue after you’re gone, but you won’t be able to erase the blood that is already on your hands.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Did you think that because we haven’t succeeded yet, nobody’s died?” Jonah asked. “Even if you didn’t kill them yourselves, the blood is still on your hands for working with us.”

The girls backed away. “We never wanted…”

“You didn’t know what you wanted. The way I see it, neither of you should have gotten involved in the first place. What exactly did that Nastassja woman sell you on? Some… grand utopia? Man and monster living together in blissful harmony?”

“Just tell us what you’re playing at,” Shirabe hissed. 

“I’m trying to tell you that if you want to walk away, do it. Break away and figure out tomorrow for yourselves if you don’t like the one we’re creating.”

“I don’t believe for a second that you’re going to let us go.”

Jonah sighed. “I am. However withered you may think it is, I do have a heart… and you two have come to remind me far too much of my daughter in recent days.”

“Your… daughter, dess?”

Jonah’s eyes were downcast, and all of a sudden he looked every day of his five and a half decades. “Nothing makes a man hate humanity quicker than seeing it... at its ugliest. Finding her body in the gutter was... the last straw.”

Kirika and Shirabe found they had no reply.

“Get out of here.”

“Where do you expect us to go?” Shirabe asked, “We’re miles underground and it’s dangerously hot out there.”

“I suspect you won’t have to worry about that. Our ‘friends’ at S.O.N.G. should be arriving shortly.”

Kirika narrowed her eyes, then took Shirabe by the hand. “C’mon, Shirabe. Let’s get out of here.”

“What about Maria?”

“I’ll tell her when it becomes relevant,” Jonah responded. “Even with the two of you gone, she seems far too committed to back out now.”

Tears threatening to spill, Kirika hurried Shirabe along toward the back of the Super X-3. Jonah’s people gave them funny looks when they pressed the button to open the bay, but made no attempt to stop the young girls either.

They stepped out into long-abandoned civilization.

Fanning herself, Kirika looked around in wonder, distress momentarily forgotten. “Where… are we?”

“Is this a city?” Shirabe murmured.

All around, buildings formed from volcanic rock rose into the air, many short but some reaching for the hidden ceiling of the immense cavern high above. They could only see one of the walls thanks to the smoke that choked the air, produced by rivers of molten lava that ran down what looked to be purposely carved channels.

The wall they could see, however, was dominated by something breathtaking. 

It was a colossal glyph, hundreds of meters tall, and it depicted a familiar shape with sharp, maple-leaf dorsal spines.

“God… zilla?” Kirika said, already sweating bullets. “Wait, I think I read about this place in the FIS library. Nobody’s allowed to come… so why are we here?”

“People used to live here, _with_ Godzilla?” Shirabe asked. “But then… where’s the room for him?”

Then she turned around, and there it was, uphill from them.

A temple. A temple that, in size alone, put any Pantheon or ziggurat to shame. It stretched in either direction, presumably all the way up to the cavern’s shrouded ceiling, and a great empty path leading to its mighty, kaiju-sized staircase made it clear that it was built for Godzilla himself. 

“Is this his home?” wondered Shirabe as she and Kirika walked away from the temple, assuming that the exit lay opposite of it. They avoided the lava rivers, but it was still stiflingly hot this far beneath the surface of the Earth.

After an uncomfortably quiet walk down the gentle incline, when they’d reached the underground city’s “suburbs”, the two girls became aware of a sound, one that stood out from the groaning of the rock around them, from the hiss of distant lavafalls gushing from the ceiling.

It was distinctly mechanical. The rumble of an engine.

“He wasn’t lying, dess,” Kirika grumbled, thumbing Igalima. “They really are here.”

But then there was another sound, louder and far more chilling: an echoing screech. It was not the recognizable roar of Godzilla, come home for lunch, but something rawer, more primal.

Bursting through the smoke clouds came the silver form of Land Moguera, with two familiar people in armor standing atop it, but it was what followed hot on the vehicle’s treads that really scared Kirika and Shirabe.

An adult Skullcrawler.

Twenty-five meters high on its two legs, slavering jaws snapping at the retreating tank, the monster was already bleeding from a few puncture wounds and sword gashes. It also sported a sizable burn above one shoulder.

None of its wounds were closing, which meant it wasn’t quite old enough to evolve to kaiju status, but it was still a formidable creature. 

“Should we help them?” Kirika asked.

“I feel like it couldn’t hurt, could it?” Shirabe replied. “We may as well.”

And that was why, to Chris and Tsubasa’s matching shock, they heard two sets of holy words ring out at their backs.

_Zeios Igalima raizen tron_

_Various Shul Shagana tron_

“Wait a damn minute-” Chris barked, looking over her shoulder at the orbs of light shrouding the girls.

Pink and green blades glanced off the Skullcrawler’s bony mask, staggering the beast with a hiss as Land Moguera skidded to a stop.

“You two?”

“Fight now, questions later, dess!” Kirika cut Tsubasa off in a hurry. 

“Fine with me!” Chris shouted, leveling her gatling guns at the recovering Skullcrawler’s face. “Just don’t get in my way, alright?”

“Get in her way?” Shirabe grumbled, rolling up to the group, “Doesn’t she know how to fight as a team?”

“That’s not what she means,” Tsubasa supplied, offering the young girl a smile, “Yukine just wants the stage clear. When she really cuts loose…”

Chris cleared her throat, focusing on the song deep inside herself.

“...a whole lot of things tend to, well, explode.”

And just like that, Chris’s music washed over the makeshift battlefield. Both of the former Finé operatives were stunned, caught off guard by the pounding chords and rapid percussion. They’d been able to tell that the wielder of Ichaival was aggressive based on prior meetings, but this was a whole new level.

_Aisatsu muyō no gatling_

She opened with a sustained burst of fire right at the Skullcrawler’s face, targeting one of its small, well-hidden eyes. The bullets mostly chipped away at the monster’s skull-mask, causing it to balance on one arm and guard its exposed eyeball with the other clawed hand.

_Gomibako iki e no death party_

After emptying a healthy amount of rounds into the Skullcrawler’s hand, Chris moved sideways, headed for the other eye. Rather than switching its guard, the beast elected to act offensively and about-faced, swinging its long, prehensile tail like a whip. The tapering tip broke the sound barrier with a resounding crack, but a leap powered by phonic gain easily cleared the oncoming attack. 

_One, two, three, mezawari da_

Chris’s hip ring produced a pair of missiles that arced down onto the Skullcrawler’s back, and the twin detonations nearly forced it to the ground. Its elbows narrowly avoided buckling, though, and it immediately jumped, jaws wide to snap Chris out of the air. The young woman just smiled.

_Dotama ni kaza'ana hoshī nara_

As she’d known would happen, a new impact from below clacked the monster’s mouth shut prematurely, courtesy of Tsubasa, and that allowed Chris to balance on the Skullcrawler’s nose for a moment as it hung in the air at the apex of its leap.

_Kichin to narabi na adios_

Chris pushed off and let gravity take hold, falling with the Skullcrawler as she rained fire over its whole body. Each bullet left a superficial wound, but without a healing factor, the monster would eventually bleed out if she filled it full of holes. When it crashed to the floor, the creature squawked and scrambled to its feet, flinging droplets of its acidic lifeblood in all directions.

_One, two, three, kie usero_

Chris kept up her firestorm of lead as the other three wielders found their own openings, sending blades of several varieties into the megafauna’s flesh. Something, somehow, drove the creature forward where most of its kind would retreat. Starvation, perhaps?

Then, before the song of Chris’s heart continued, the Skullcrawler decided it had had enough and turned tail with a rasping hiss. Leaving a trail of giant blood drops, the two-limbed monster retreated out of sight, toward the tunnel.

“Pussy,” Chris scoffed, stowing her weapons, before turning to Kirika and Shirabe. “You two pipsqueaks’ve got some explaining to do.”

“Only if you don’t arrest us,” Shirabe replied, meeting Chris’s eyes. 

“I’m afraid we’ll have to arrest you at some point,” said Tsubasa, frowning. “Terrorism is a dreadful crime.”

“Even though we’re kids, dess?” 

“Obviously you wouldn’t be punished as adults,” Chris reassured the younger wielder, “But this isn’t the kind of thing we can let slide.”

“What if we helped you?” Shirabe offered. “We… don’t want to help them anymore.”

Chris pondered that for a moment, then wordlessly waved Tsubasa over. When the guardian arrived, Chris slung an arm around her friend’s shoulder and hunched down in a pseudo-huddle. “This is a trap, ain’t it?”

“Probably,” Tsubasa conceded. “What do you think our next move should be, Yukine?”

Chris hummed for a moment. “Spring the trap? See what happens?”

Tsubasa side-eyed her, then let her deep blue eyes flicker to Kirika and Shirabe. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. That city up there… we don’t know what they’re planning, or where they’re hiding.”

“Fine,” Chris sighed. “Let’s ask them a couple more questions.”

“We heard everything you two just said, dess.”

“Then you know that we’re on to you!” exclaimed Chris, whirling to point a finger at Kirika’s face, “So don’t try any funny business, got it?”

“We’re not gonna!” protested Igalima’s wielder, “We want to help you!”

“We hurt people,” Shirabe said quietly. “We wanted to help Mom and Maria, but… we let that get in the way of doing the right thing.”

“How do we prove that we’re serious?” Kirika asked, desperation on her features. “Shirabe and I… we’re on a timer! Especially me!”

Shirabe turned to look at her, confused. “What are you talking about, Kiri-chan?”

Kirika looked startled, as if she’d said something she hadn’t meant to say. “I’m, uh… well… Finé.”

Chris’s brows knit. “Say again? Because if I didn’t know better I’d say you just told us-”

“I’m Finé!” Kirika exclaimed, desperation in her words.

Tsubasa saw the darkness flash through Chris’s expression before she’d even started moving. “Yukine, don’t.” 

Even so, the idol made no move to hold Chris back as she marched up to Kirika and picked her up by the collar, ignoring that the younger girl was taller than her. Kirika didn’t meet her eyes.

“So, that bitch didn’t learn her lesson. Can you hear me in there, old lady? I was hoping you’d get the message and stay gone this time, but when do I ever get what I want?”

“I-I don’t know how close to taking me over she is, dess. But every moment I spend in this Gear, she gets closer.” Kirika said quietly. “That’s why… I want to help you while I’m still me.”

Chris gritted her teeth until she felt like they’d crack, then dropped the younger girl and went to stand next to Tsubasa again. “That woman ruined my life. Forgive me if I’m a little uncomfortable at the idea of working with her reincarnation.”

Tsubasa placed a comforting hand on Chris’s shoulder. “Yukine. Are you okay?”

Chris let out a small, sad sigh. “Yeah. Peachy. Let’s get these two in the Moguera. The idiot can keep an eye on them.”

“Wait!” Kirika protested, taking a step forward that caused Chris to practically bristle, “Please, let me do this! I don’t know what Finé did to you, but I can be better!”

“BETTER THAN HER?!” Chris roared, and this time Tsubasa had to physically restrain her, “Shouldn’t take much! Long as you’re not a batshit crazy, manipulative, abusive sociopath! I don’t want you anywhere near me, got it?!”

Kirika recoiled as if she’d been slapped in the face.

“Yukine,” Tsubasa hissed, “Please calm down. I know how you feel about that woman, but you’re acting irrational-”

“I don’t give a shit,” Chris growled, “What if _she_ takes control in the middle of the fight? Pretty sure Finé would sympathize with the terrorists’ goals.”

“Certainly,” Tsubasa replied, “But that doesn’t mean you need to be cruel to Akatsuki. She didn’t choose to be Finé’s vessel.”

Chris scoffed, but stopped struggling. “Whatever. I’m still not fighting alongside them.”

“Please, think about this!” protested Kirika, teary-eyed. “Is Finé the problem? What if I could guarantee that she won’t show up while we’re fighting?”

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear this one,” Chris snorted derisively, “You can’t control something like that, kid. Her memories are written into your DNA, and when they overwrite yours, her ‘soul’ will take over. She… told me all about how it works.”

Kirika blinked. “Her… soul?”  
“The ‘soul’ as we understand it,” Tsubasa provided, “Refers to genetic memories. The sort of thing that would allow Mothra to be reborn as technically the same creature if she were to die.”

Kirika frowned and lifted her Armed Gear.

“Hey,” Chris said warily, “Don’t go attacking if you don’t get your way.”

“This scythe…” Kirika mumbled, “I heard it was meant to cut spirits. Maybe…”

“Kiri-chan, hold on,” Shirabe began, but Kirika had already begun to feverishly recite the Superb Song, rushing through the ancient lyrics with a fearful urgency.

“The hell are you doing?” Chris asked, drawing her pistols on the young blond girl as her Armed Gear began to grow, new plates of metamaterial overlaying the blade and making it larger, sharper.

Kirika spun the now massive scythe until the wicked point faced inward. “If Igalima can cut spirits… maybe it’ll be able to do this!”  
“You’ll kill yourself!” Tsubasa cried, every muscle telling her to run in and stop Kirika even as her mind said that caution would be the only way to make her back down. 

“She’s right,” supplied Chris, grudge momentarily set aside, “Your body wouldn’t be able to handle that alongside the Superb Song’s recoil, especially without proper compatibility.”

Kirika gripped the scythe until her knuckles paled, “If I let Finé in, then I die no matter what! At least if I do this, there’s a chance I might make it and still be me!” 

Without further warning, Kirika moved, bringing the impossibly sharp tip of her scythe down on her own heart.

But it never reached its destination, for an even smaller girl closed the gap between them in an instant and wrapped Kirika in a tight hug, shielding her with her own body.

Shirabe held Kirika close even as the point of the Armed Gear pierced her back. A strange sensation passed through her whole body as the soul-cutting phonic energy of Igalima sought out her DNA, the very essence of her being, and readied to rend it apart.

But then it found something else, and an oddly warm darkness stole consciousness away from Shirabe as she slumped in Kirika’s arms.

“What…”

“Why would she-”

“SHIRABE!”

Kirika banished her armor and weapon with all her might, and with the blade removed, the hole in Shirabe’s back immediately began to bleed and stain her sweater.

Tsubasa, spurred into action, helped lower the wounded girl to the rocky floor as she inspected the damage.

“This wound itself isn’t fatal,” the guardian quickly confirmed, “But combined with that supposed ability of Igalima’s… she should be dead already. This girl is strong.”

And then, to the utter shock of all three of them, as well as the listeners within Land Moguera, Shirabe’s mouth spoke, in a voice that was not her own.

“Strong indeed. Had she not held out, her soul would have been destroyed before the power could find my own soul hidden within her.”

Then her eyes opened, and where there had once been pale pink irises there now glowed bright yellow ones, with slit reptilian pupils.

Chris stepped back, raising her hands in a reflexive defense. “Finé…”

Shirabe’s head turned, and Finé’s mismatched deep voice sounded from her mouth again. “Ah… hello again, Chris. I was so distracted by the familiar scenery that I...”

“Don’t you _dare_ talk to me! You don’t have any right to!”

Finé-Shirabe nodded. “I suppose not. I was terrible to you, wasn’t I? And you, Tsubasa… if it weren’t for my plans, you would still have Kanade.”

Tsubasa’s grip on Shirabe’s shoulders tightened, but she gave no other indication of the inner flare of her grief at those words.

Next, Finé turned to Kirika, whose tears had abruptly stopped out of shock. “And you… I’m so sorry. I was never within you, but telling you that would have meant taking over this girl.”

“I-isn’t that what… you just did?” Kirika stuttered, voice heartbreakingly hollow. 

Finé-Shirabe smiled, and for a moment her eyes flickered pink, then back to yellow again. “No. Your Igalima, after wrestling with Shirabe’s will to live, discovered my weaker DNA and targeted it instead. I’m disappearing as we speak.”

Chris snarled. “You, just giving up and finally dying after 20,000 years of rebirth? Forgive my disbelief.”

“You have every right to mistrust me,” Finé admitted. “But in my battle with you two… and Hibiki… I saw something I haven’t seen in a long, long time.”

“And what’s that?” asked Tsubasa.

Finé sighed with Shirabe’s lungs, “Hope. Hope that the human-kaiju coexistence I once lived under… could return to this world.” 

Her eyes flickered pink again, longer this time. “Seems I’m almost finished. To finally, truly die after all this time… I must admit I’m unprepared for whatever might await me. But before I go, Chris…”

“What.” Chris replied, utter hatred glowing in her eyes as she glared into those of her onetime abuser.

“I know you won’t forgive me, and I hope you never do. But, for what it’s worth… I’m sorry.”

“Fuck off and die already,” Chris ground out.

Without another word, the ancient priestess let mortality take hold, closing her eyes, and when they next opened they were once again pink with normal, human pupils. Shirabe’s eyes.

“Did it work?” she mumbled.

“Shirabe!” Kirika exclaimed as the tears, now joyful, restarted, and then pulled her into a tight hug.

“Careful, Akatsuki,” Tsubasa cautioned, “She could still be… oh.”

Tsubasa didn’t bother finishing her sentence, because the wound was gone, and had left nothing but smooth skin in its place without so much as a scar. The kaiju-like regeneration that Finé had shown those many months ago in their battle.

“Shirabe, why’d you do that?” Kirika whispered.

“I wasn’t just going to stand there and let you hurt yourself,” Shirabe replied, “I guess that was the only thing I could think of.”

“But… you didn’t know Finé was inside you?” Chris asked with a frown.

“Not until she started talking to me after I passed out,” said the dark-haired girl.

Tsubasa stood up. “Then you were ready to give your own life for hers.”

Shirabe smiled up at Kirika, wiping away a stray tear. “I… guess I was.”

Tsubasa looked to Chris, and a silent understanding passed between them: these two kids were far too sincere to be trying to trick them.

Chris approached the pair of them, then squatted down, expression unreadable. Kirika drew herself inward, preparing to be berated, but the harsh words never came.

Instead a gentle hand tousled her blond hair as Chris dropped the facade.

“I’m… real sorry, kid,” Chris said. “I shouldn’ta snapped at you like I did. I have, uh… trust issues. You two still down to give us a hand?”

“Of course,” Shirabe replied, standing up with Kirika’s help. “Me and Kiri-chan can take you right up to where the jet’s parked.”

Tsubasa’s eyes narrowed. “Maria will probably be waiting for us, won’t she?” 

“I dunno, dess,” Kirika replied, her vocal quirk returning with her composure, “She seemed like she was having the same second thoughts as us. There will be someone there, though.”

Chris frowned. “Oh no.”

“Kohinata?” Tsubasa breathed, “Do they intend to use her against us?”

“Is that her name? Because I think so,” Shirabe said, now standing unsupported, “They had her putting on a Gear… doing experiments.”

Inside Land Moguera, as the conversation was broadcasted, Hibiki listened with mounting horror.

“They’re going to make Miku fight?” she whispered, “No… she… she wouldn’t fight us. Not like that.”

“We’ll deal with it,” Chris said, before nodding to Kirika and Shirabe. “Alright, you two. Lead the way. We’ll be right behind ya.”

Kirika nodded, a smile on her face at having earned some of Chris’s trust, and jumped down off the vehicle to lead them through the underground city.

Mothra tore through the air, pushing herself as fast as she could possibly fly. Out over the open ocean, such things were not a problem. Despite being nowhere near as fast as Rodan, the sheer breadth of her wings was more than capable of causing similar damage if she flew fast and low over land.

But all that she kicked up here was the water’s surface as the wind rushed by. She was still a good way beyond the speed of sound, but that was what made it so beneficial to possess telepathy as the twins, nestled in the fur just behind her head, kept her updated on the situation in the Hollow Earth.

She could probably do it herself, but she was too focused on tracking the one who would get there first. Who would return to his onetime home first.

Godzilla was headed there, and his arrival was imminent. When he discovered the humans, her chosen as well as the rest, he would surely take offense to their invasion of his old home.

There would be a fight, and if Godzilla got mad enough, the humans would lose.

That was why she had to get there soon.

One of these islands had to have an entrance to the tunnels…

Despite the gravity of the situation, some of the members of S.O.N.G.’s retrieval team were quite fascinated by the cityscape that passed by as they made their way to their final foes’ hiding place.

“To think ancient humans once lived here,” Tomosato said reverently, “Coexisting with Godzilla.”

“Then why does he hate us so much nowadays?” Fujitaka wondered. “What did our ancestors do to destroy that relationship?”

Chris’s voice rang out through the comms. “Be on alert. The kids say we’re gettin’ close.”

They’d taken an alternate route due to Land Moguera only fitting on the larger streets, but Kirika and Shirabe had still successfully navigated them toward the watchtower that stood near the Super X-3’s resting place.

The four wielders on the ground rounded the last corner, and there it was, a shining hunk of modern engineering laid among the stonework of the ancients. The vehicle that the organization Finé had used to outrun them for weeks now. A stolen Super X-3, meant to be the latest mass-produced anti-kaiju aircraft.

The bay door was opened, and within moments of them spotting the aircraft, a familiar figure stepped out of it, easily recognizable to the observers as Miku.

“She’s free?” Hibiki asked, confused.

“What’s that on her head?” Chris wondered.

“Kohinata!” Tsubasa called. “Hurry over here!”

Miku just kept up her slow steps, seemingly staring intently at the ground. Some kind of odd, silvery headgear was wrapped around the back and top of her head.

Then, a harsh crackle, and all eyes and cameras swiveled to the top of the watchtower, where a makeshift sound system had been rigged up. And through the speakers came a voice none of them were happy to hear.

“Welcome to hell, agents of S.O.N.G.! Hope you’re enjoying the weather, because I’m not!” crowed Dr. Ver. “Frankly, I’m impressed you managed to get a way down here! Aren’t you riding in the big robot that _couldn’t_?”

Tsubasa pointed her Armed Gear at him, high above. “Give up and surrender, Doctor. We have you outnumbered.”

“So it would seem,” relented the mad scientist, “Guess the girls lost their nerve. Still, having them on your side won’t help you here.”

“You ain’t very good at bluffing, y’know!” Chris called up at Ver. “Are you really gonna make me come up there and beat you up, dillweed?”

Ver cackled into the mic. “I assure you, I am very much _not_ bluffing. I’ll leave the explanation as to _why_ that’s the case up to our mutual friend, Kohinata-san.”

“Where’s Hibiki?” Miku called over the gap between them. Whatever was on her head, she didn’t seem to be acting strange.

Chris tilted her head. “In the tank-mecha thingie, why?”

“Can you bring her out here?”

Tsubasa caught on quickly. “Kohinata, we aren’t going to trade you for each other. Both of you are leaving this city with us.”

“No, you don’t understand!” Miku cried, “I need to see her, I can help her now!”

“Help her how?” Chris pressed.

“Every time she fights, she risks her life… I can save her!”

“How, exactly?” Tsubasa asked, still glaring at Ver high above.

“I-I think…” Miku stammered, pulling a glittering something on a string out of her shirt, “It’d be best to… show you.”

“A Symphogear,” Chris hissed. “These two said she was being experimented on, but-”

And then, echoing through the underground city, four haunting words in a long-lost language, a Holy Chant, drawing forth the power hidden in the pendant Miku held.

Hibiki couldn’t look away.

_Rei Shénshòujìng rei zizzl_

Miku and the Symphogear fought every step of the way. The weapon rushed to cloak her in its power, but Miku resisted, causing the phonic energy to jerk her limbs this way and that in an unsettling puppet’s dance. Due to her low output, the “bubble” that encased her as she transformed was partially transparent, so every onlooker was subjected to watching the unnatural contortions of Miku’s form as Shénshòujìng tugged on her extremities. They watched the shadow of bulky leg armor crash into place, watched trailing scarf-like attachments flow outward, and, most disturbingly, they watched the headgear she’d been wearing _prior_ to the transformation be incorporated into the Symphogear itself.

The bubble vanished, and there Miku stood, shoulders sagging, breathing heavily.

“Kohinata…?”

Miku slowly stood up straight, staring at them from between pieces of headgear that looked strangely like a pair of toothed jaws, and the strange scarf-like appendages attached to her armor rose up, swaying like charmed snakes. “Bring Hibiki out… please.”

“Hey,” Chris said gently, raising her hands. “You’re not acting like yourself.”

Miku frowned and looked down at her hands. “You think so? I’m just… not used to this, I think.”

“That’s right,” Tsubasa said. “You have no training, low compatibility. You’re in no shape to be wielding any kind of Gear, Kohinata.”

Miku cast them a forlorn look. “Yeah… you’re right.”

Chris felt hope rise that they were getting through to their clearly desperate friend.

Then Miku reached up to the bizarre headgear Shénshòujìng had incorporated into its armor. “But that’s what this is for.”

She pressed a button.

The “jaws” slammed shut into a visor over her eyes, and the jagged line of the “teeth” began to emit a low purple shine.

“What’d she just do,” Hibiki breathed, staring intently at the video feed. “Miku, please… what are you doing…”

Suddenly, Miku’s stance was firm. She produced an Armed Gear, some kind of club, and dropped into a ready pose as even her phonic gain began a gradual rise.

“She’s completely different now, dess,” Kirika murmured, backing away from the aggressive intent that now emanated from Miku.

“Bring Hibiki out and we can skip this,” Miku said. “While this visor is down, I can fight on your levels.”

“But you’re still outnumbered,” Shirabe pointed out.

High above, Dr. Ver nearly fell out of the watchtower from the intensity of his cackling fit, holding his laptop in one hand. “Magnificent! It’s functioning better than even I imagined! A single-person direct feedback system, a mental landscape supplied with external information- a Drift!”

Tomosato, Fujitaka, and Genjuro reacted as one. “A drift?!”

Hibiki looked to the Commander, wide-eyed. “A what?”

“It’s the piloting system used in Jaegers,” the giant man explained, “It creates a mental bridge between two people and the mech’s systems, allowing them to receive direct feedback from the Jaeger itself, as if it were part of their own body.”

“But the engineering behind it is heavily classified!” Fujitaka cried, sounding panicked and awed all at once. “How did they manage to build one?” 

“Must’ve gotten their hands on the data somehow,” offered Tomosato, fingers flying over her keyboard, “We know Alan Jonah has an extensive hacking network, but I’d thought the PPDC had more secure servers!”

“Hey, Miku... whattya mean you can fight on our level now?” Chris asked, still hesitant to draw any sort of weapon on her very first friend. Hibiki and Tsubasa had pulled her out of her funk, but it had been Miku who cared for her out of the goodness of her heart when Chris was at her lowest.

Miku tilted her head, and the gesture was oh-so-unnerving with the evil glow of the visor. “This system will boost my reflexes, reaction time… the doctor described it as ‘all-around battle sense’.”

“Uncle,” Tsubasa whispered, “What Gear is that?”

“By process of elimination,” Genjuro replied, looking at his own monitor, “Shénshòujìng. Our files claim it was never battle-tested, so its abilities are unknown, but it’s possible the data has been tampered with. Be on guard.”

“What _do_ we know about it?” asked Tsubasa, ready to defend herself at a moment’s notice. 

“Apparently, it would be far too weak to serve as a proper combat Gear.”

Before Genjuro could say anything more, there was a gust of wind and Miku was in Tsubasa’s face, bringing down the clublike weapon. Tsubasa blocked in time, and found her arms straining to hold back the heavy weapon with her thin blade. So much for weak.

“Kohinata, please consider that if we bring Tachibana out here, these people may have unsavory intentions for her!”

“Then I’ll fight them off too,” Miku said, voice shaking. “I’m strong now… like all of you.”

Tsubasa grimaced as she barely managed to push Miku off. “Don’t talk nonsense.”

“Get outta there, senpai,” Chris interjected, suddenly deadly serious, “If someone has to knock some sense into her, let me do it.”

“Chris, I promise I have all my wits about me,” Miku replied, turning to face her friend as Chris drew her crossbows.

Chris snorted as her music once again started to play, intent on picking up her song where it had left off. “You’re still you, yeah. As far as I can tell, anyway. But you’re making a stupid-ass decision.”

“This is all for Hibiki’s sake, Chris.”

“Yeah?” Chris challenged, “Well, so is this.”

_Gekitetsu ni kometa omoi_

The crossbows fired, sending glowing arrows of energy flying at Miku. In response, a signal from her drift, amplified by the Gear, sped along her decision to swing the club about with a dexterity unbefitting its size. One by one, Miku swatted the projectiles out of the air as she turned to face Chris.

_Attakē kizuna no tame_

The armor at Miku’s legs hissed, partially unfolding, then let out an earsplitting roar as a rush of air propelled her in Chris’s direction. The wielder of Ichaival barely managed to duck under the mighty swing that Miku aimed at her. Still not a fan of close-quarters, Chris jumped up and away with another rain of crossbow bolts.

_Gara ja nē serifu_

This time Miku was still in the follow-through of her own attack, so the projectiles struck true. One caught her in the shoulder, throwing her off-balance, before a second took out her knees, sending her to the floor. Her artificially-boosted abilities had her back on her feet in a moment- just in time for two more to impact her midsection at the same time. It seemed Shénshòujìng’s new feedback system had some kind of pain dampener, because Miku hardly grunted.

_Demo warukunē_

Having put sufficient distance between them, Chris engaged Ichaival’s hover and changed out the crossbows for her beloved gatling guns. The smaller bullets wouldn’t do nearly as much damage to Miku, but they’d keep her at range much more effectively. By holding up the club in front of her, though, Miku blocked most of the bullets from hitting her and steadily advanced under the rain of fire. Additional attacks from Tsubasa and the kids glanced off the Armed Gear as well.

_"I-i ko wa nenne shite ina!!"_

The armor at Miku’s legs roared again, and suddenly she was pushing through the storm of lead like it was a summer shower. As she drew closer and closer, it became clear to Chris that this wasn’t a jump up to her height; rather, Miku was flying under her own power. When Miku ascended past Chris, she abandoned defense and swung the heavy club down. It caught Chris squarely in the back, and she tumbled through the air until she managed to right herself. Miku was already on the way to follow up.

“Okay,” Chris grumbled. “If that’s how you wanna do things.”

_Haha, go to hell!! Sā super zange time_

Chris shrank one gatling gun back to a crossbow and loosed one quick bolt into Miku’s headgear. The other girl wobbled in the air, but her momentum remained unchanged. So, changing back to dual gatlings once more, Chris let herself drop a few meters out of the way and fired on Miku as she passed. Miku was spiraling, out of control by that point. 

_Jigoku no soko de enma-sama ni dogeza shite koi_

The system augmenting her fighting had definitely elevated her beyond a first-timer, but she was still little more than an amateur compared to Chris, it seemed. As Miku barely managed to right herself, Chris rapidly alternated between crossbows and gatling guns, launching a whole battle’s worth of artillery at one single opponent. Miku, despite her best efforts, found that she could not advance at more than a snail’s pace.

_Haha, go to hell!! Mō kōkai wa shinai_

Then, Miku’s guard failed, and the bolts and bullets started to find their marks more and more, pushing her back, closer to the ground, even as the few projectiles that missed struck the ancient abandoned city below. Oh well.

_Mamoru beki basho ga, dekita kara…_

Chris halted the small arms and let her hip ring unfold its storage racks to reveal the gigantic missiles of Ichaival’s MEGA DETH QUARTET configuration. Every successful hit she’d landed on Miku had caused a pang of guilt, but this… this was going to hurt. Before she fired, Chris uttered a silent apology.

_Mō nigenai!_

Brighter than the lava flows, than the mossy ceiling, a flash illuminated the sky of the massive underground cavern as the fireball of four explosions at once engulfed Miku. It didn’t take long for her to fall out of it, trailing smoke. She caved in a 20,000-year-old shed when she landed, and Chris held her breath as she drifted to the ground, waiting for Miku to get up.

At length, Miku struggled to her feet, looking mostly undamaged even as she grimaced with every movement.

“You okay?” Chris called. “I’m not tryin’ ta really hurt you, so…”

“I’m fine, Chris,” Miku said. “But the Gear… Shénshòujìng… it’s screaming at me.”

“Huh?”

“It wants me to… stop holding back against you.”

Miku stumbled, clawing at her face, at the visor hiding her eyes. “I think… I’m going to oblige it.”

She lifted the club, and all of a sudden, the club was no longer a club. It had split into sections, growing wider, moving outward.

“Oh,” Chris noted. “It’s a fan.”

Miku readied the _true_ form of Shénshòujìng’s Armed Gear as she readied herself to renew her battle with Chris.

“Why aren’t we helping her, dess?” Kirika asked.

“We’ll help Yukine if she gets into a tight spot,” Tsubasa said. “The four of us against the one of her would run the risk of hurting Kohinata.”

Up in the watchtower, John Wayne Vercingetorix was having an absolute field day as he observed both the battle and the data Miku’s system was sending him.

“Incredible,” Ver said. “The Pons system has completely integrated with the Symphogear. The original function remains, but there’s now secondary feedback directly from Shénshòujìng, almost like it has a will of its own! What miraculous things those relics are.”

“What are you squawking about now?” said an old, accented voice, and Ver turned to find Jonah getting off the ladder.

“I believe you’d call it ‘technobabble’, old man,” Ver sneered. “All you need to know is that my genius has borne the ripest fruit possible.”

“Yes, it seems the modifications my team made are working splendidly.”

Ver stiffened, then turned to the older man with a dangerous gleam in his eye. “I beg your pardon?”

Jonah was not in the slightest bit threatened by the thin scientist’s glare. “We made the effect of your homemade Pons system a little stronger… more invasive, so that the Gear would amplify that further and create secondary feedback. That girl would have much more of a will of her own had I not intervened.”

“You asshole, when did you-”

“Even you sleep sometimes,” Jonah replied, now wearing a sneer of his own. “I suppose I should also mention that I had the ORCA modified during my little trip to France.”

Ver seized him by the collar. “What the fuck did you do to my life’s work?!”

Jonah threw him off with little effort despite his age, and Ver nearly lost his footing. “Nothing compromising, you nutter. Just added a signal that you’d never bothered to.”

The mad doctor stiffened. “Signal…?”

“We had to hack MONARCH again, and that’s an absolute pain in the arse every time, but… we got Godzilla’s bioacoustics.”

“You what?!” 

Jonah chuckled. “I’ve actually been playing it through these speakers up here since you turned them on. You really ought to keep a closer eye on your things.”

“You’ve been broadcasting Godzilla’s…? But why bring him here?”

“Your endgame, doctor, was to use Shénshòujìng to destroy our opponents’ Symphogears. My endgame is something… a bit different.”

Ver snarled, “Why would you come up here to tell me this.”

“Because I don’t like you. Also, it’s a good vantage point to witness the arrival of our guest of honor. According to our seismics… he’s here.”

Jonah pointed out across the city-cave, toward the entrance, and Ver followed his gaze.

Barrelling through it came not a nuclear nightmare, but rather the same adult Skullcrawler from earlier, if the bleeding wounds on it were anything to go by.

Its shrieks reached the wielders, and all five turned to look at the ravenous reptile as it reentered, scrambling as fast as its two legs could go.

“Back for more, dess?” Kirika wondered.

“No, that’s not it.” Shirabe said. “It looks… afraid.”

Before the Skullcrawler could fully enter the cave, it seemed to suddenly slip, falling down onto its front as its tail went taut. Caught on a crag?

Then, to the wielders’ further shock, it began to slide backwards.

The Skullcrawler, held by the tail by _something,_ was lifted from the ground entirely and swung bodily against the rocky wall like a sack of meat. It slid back down, completely unconscious.

Then, despite the kilometers between them and the entrance, every human being in the cavern felt the ground tremble.

The sound of footfalls echoed in the open space.

He stepped through slowly, one mighty black leg at a time, great clawed hands clenched into fists.

His broad chest visibly expanded and contracted with each rumbling breath as his boxy head came further into view.

Orange eyes reflected the lavafalls. His lips curled in what looked quite like a frown, bearing more of his two-meter teeth.

The distance between the entrance and the wielders did nothing to quiet the roar of Godzilla as he announced his arrival.

No, not arrival. His return home.

**CHAPTER XVII: Distortions**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kept you waiting, huh? I hope this chapter's length makes up for the four-week wait. Even with how inconsistent this fic's upload schedule is liable to become thanks to college, ideally I won't make you wait that long for the next few. Chapters 18 and 19 are going to be super long as well, but I'm shooting for two weeks each to finish those.  
> The cave city is based on the one shown in Godzilla: King of the Monsters, except it's not underwater. Whatever could Jonah be scheming... you'll see.  
> Thanks for your patience in waiting for this one. Your readership is eternally appreciated, and your comments even more so. Stay safe, and good luck with classes, for those of you attending school of any kind.


	18. CHAPTER XVIII: A Small, Sunny Spot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sung in this chapter we have both "Waikyō Shénshòujìng" and "Rainbow Flower", two excellent songs from the Symphogear OST.

_ “Godzilla is the son of the atomic bomb. He is a nightmare created out of the darkness of the human soul. He is the sacred beast of the apocalypse.” _

**-Tomoyuki Tanaka of Toho, producer of** **_Gojira_ ** **, a documentary of Godzilla’s 1954 attack.**

  
  


**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


Godzilla paid no mind to the skull-faced one. If it was already out cold, it was not worth his time. Instead he narrowed his eyes at this achingly familiar place, so similar to the last time he’d been there. Almost untouched, even.

Nostalgia mixed with the boiling anger in his breast as his gaze swept over the ancient human architecture. He had experienced some good times in this place. The time he’d spent in this city among the people-  _ his  _ people- was but a blink of an eye in the full scope of his life, but the memories stuck with him all the same. For a long time, he had been their God, a mighty titan to be worshipped and praised. They’d made him offerings of all kinds (he’d been quick to shut down any idea that sacrificing each other was okay), and he’d guarded their home in return. 

Godzilla had never been certain why they chose him out of all his kin to worship. He’d been a fifty-meter runt, not as massive or powerful as his brothers and sisters, who averaged between sixty and eighty. And of course, he was nowhere near the hundred and eight meters of the one the humans called Dagon, the mightiest of his species.

Of course, Godzilla had tried to never let his small size impede him. He’d defeated larger members of his kin in territory fights, always proving himself with his ferocity and stubborn determination. Those qualities were the only reason he was still alive.

The only reason he hadn’t been fully liquefied by the humans decades ago.

The only reason The Enemy hadn’t crushed him to nothing millions of years ago.

Godzilla shook his head to clear the unbidden surge of memories. For a moment he wondered if the telepathic human rooting around in his head was to blame, but it took just a moment to confirm that she had only experienced the flashbacks as he had them, rather than caused them herself.

So he looked once again to the city, at the buildings he’d once walked between, some of which had approached his head in height, way back then. He’d have to be much more careful now. 

He sought the location of that sound, that artificial mockery of his kind’s song. Without numberless tons of rock to dampen the noise, it grated horribly on his ears. A small part of him wanted to just attack from here and destroy it.

But there was no telling how much of his old home would be damaged if he used his fire. He wanted this place to stand as long as possible, a reminder of better times. So he took a step forward, intent on walking all the way there. He’d told himself he would smash the device under his foot, and that was still his plan.

With his next earth-shaking step, he sensed the panic ring out in the humans, the ones cloaked in the Moth’s power. Then he felt them start to move, closing in on him.

Godzilla chuffed. Let them come. It wasn’t like they could stop him. When he really set his mind to something, nothing on or in Mother Earth could prevent him from achieving it.

“Are we really doing this, dess?” Kirika called as the four of them leapt from rooftop to ancient rooftop, beelining for the approaching skyscraper-sized monster. “That’s Godzilla, right?”

“The one and only,” Chris confirmed. “Probably here to shut us up, since we sound like Mothra.”

Shirabe frowned. “We do?”

“Oh,” said Chris with a grimace, “You don’t know about that stuff?”

“I’m a lot more worried about fighting something this strong, dess!” Kirika cried. “We’re no match for him!”

“Tachibana fought him by herself,” Tsubasa added, leading the charge, “I think the four of us should be enough to, at the very least, slow him down.”

“That’s not the problem!” Kirika replied, more than a little hysterically, “It’s whether or not he’ll kill us!”

“Maybe if this were 1954, Kiri-chan,” supplied Shirabe, “He doesn’t seem nearly as genocidal as back then, assuming this is the same one.”

“Huh. I never thought of that. What if this ain’t the same one?” Chris wondered.

Kirika joked, “Maybe we can ask him, dess?” 

The other three gave her looks of varying disappointment.

“What?”

“Not the time, Kiri-chan.”

“Focus, you two,” Tsubasa intoned. “Even if he’s not trying to kill you, this isn’t an opponent you can ever take lightly.”

Then they felt it.

Coming closer had brought them into Godzilla’s direct line of sight, and the glare of his great orange eyes, each one larger than any of the girls were tall, was oppressive. It felt like a physical pressure bearing down on their shoulders.

“He’s even taller up close,” Shirabe mumbled.

“One hundred and five meters, or three hundred and forty-four feet,” Tsubasa recited, “Over double that of his height in 1954, classed as a daikaiju.”

“If all the kaiju used to be smaller, why has that category been a thing for years?” wondered Chris.

“Mothra,” Shirabe said simply. “She was the biggest kaiju out there for a long time.”

Further speculation was cut off when Godzilla stomped his foot and snorted at them, puffing out his chest. Intimidation.

“He’s tryin’ ta scare us? Guess he doesn’t wanna fight,” Chris surmised.

“He is not getting his wish,” Tsubasa said, serious, as she raised her Armed Gear. “Stay light on your feet, everyone. Outmaneuvering him is key.”

“Right,” Kirika and Shirabe replied.

“It’ll only take two or three good hits from something this big to put you out of commission!” Chris added. 

As one, all four of them took to the air with powerful jumps and fired.

Chris’s missiles. Tsubasa’s rain of blades. Shirabe’s saws. Kirika’s scythes. Four attacks from the most advanced anti-kaiju system ever created, albeit not at max power. 

They all found their mark, and all accomplished little more than garnering Godzilla’s direct attention. He actually raised a brow at them, then just kept walking.

Until Tsubasa lunged at his eye, sword-first. He simply closed it, and the Armed Gear only managed to scratch his scaly eyelid, but the impact still caused him some discomfort. Even flea bites itch.

These humans were too foolish for their own good. Or maybe they were stubborn? A bit like him, then. Nowhere near the same level, though.

Thump, thump.

The dorsal spines burned blue.

Chris went white as a sheet. “SCATTER!”

Tsubasa used the nuclear leviathan’s cheek as a launch pad, and as soon as she was away, the mighty head swiveled to face her. The great jaws opened, and Tsubasa got a good look at the pale glow rising in Godzilla’s throat. There was no time to get out of the way.

She needed a shield, but a sword would have to do.

In a fraction of a second her katana had become a broadsword the size of an eighteen-wheeler, easily large enough to shelter her from the incoming attack. All that was left was the question of whether the sword would hold up under Godzilla’s atomic assault.

Godzilla was eager to find out as well, so he let the heat ray fly.

A beam of nuclear fire struck the giant broadsword, and almost instantaneously began to melt through. Tsubasa saw the metamaterial start to glow orange from her side and let herself drop from behind the not-shield as Godzilla’s atomic breath punched a hole in it.

It hadn’t taken long to construct, but Tsubasa was willing to bet that the makeshift shield had taken far more out of her than that blast had taken out of Godzilla.

Summoning her Armed Gear once again, the guardian readied for the fight of her life.

Miku watched.

From up here, she had a clear view of the battle the other four were having with Godzilla. They’d completely abandoned her to slow him down. Her artificially-boosted pragmatism told her that their priorities were correct. That monster was infinitely more of a threat than her, and always would be.

Her emotions, the part of her that was still Miku Kohinata, surged at that. Sadness at that knowledge, that no matter what lengths she went to, she’d never be able to protect Hibiki from something like Godzilla.

Her shoulders sagged, but she turned regardless, to the glittering silver mass that sat nearby, sticking out of the rocky city like a sore thumb. Land Moguera. 

Hibiki was inside. They’d told her so.

Miku had to get her out.

“I know you can hear me, Commander Kazanari. You have three minutes to bring Hibiki out here… before I come in there.”

“So cold,” Genjuro said, within the machine. “She really means business, huh?”

“What’s the plan, Commander?”

Genjuro could feel a pair of golden-brown eyes drilling holes in the side of his head.

“Hibiki-kun…”

“You know I have to do this,” Hibiki said, fiery determination in her glare. “If anyone can talk her down, it’s me. Besides…”

She gestured to her own heart, “What if she really can do something about my… problem?”

“Tachibana-san,” Tomosato cautioned, “You’re aware that she’s under some degree of mind control right now.”

“And if you’re forced to fight her, you’ll die,” Fujitaka added.

Genjuro nodded, then turned to his pupil. “Both excellent points. I know how important Miku-kun is to you, but the risks are just too great.”

“She’ll get me either way, shishou. And once she does, Chris-chan and Tsubasa-san and the others will be caught between her and Godzilla.”

Genjuro sighed.

“This is the best chance for everyone. I know you’re worried about me, but I’ll figure something out.”

“I really couldn’t stop you if I wanted to, Hibiki-kun,” the redheaded commander finally relented, “But I implore you to not get yourself killed.”

Hibiki nodded, clenching a fist in front of her body. “I’ll come back alive, even if it kills me!”

“What?” Shinjo muttered from the pilot’s seat, having been silent for quite a while as he listened.

“We call that a ‘Hibiki-ism’. Mind popping the hatch for her?”

Shinjo shook his head with a weak chuckle. “I had thought that driving a mecha-tank around to fight monsters would mean nothing can surprise me anymore. You lot sure proved me wrong. Hatch’s open, kid.”

“Hey, I’m almost eighteen, you know,” Hibiki retorted, departing the room for the hatch after one last nod in Genjuro’s direction.

She climbed the metal rungs with utmost haste, only pausing as she was startled by the temperature difference outside Land Moguera. As soon as she was all the way out, the hatch sealed behind her, and Hibiki moved to a second ladder to climb down.

Miku watched her the whole time, through the tinted light of that unsettling visor.

“Hibiki, are you doing okay?” she called out over the loud, distant sounds of the others’ battle with Godzilla. “Nothing’s hurting?”

“Not physically,” Hibiki’s reply, “But seeing you like this, fighting our friends, that does hurt.”

Miku’s head hung. “I know, Hibiki. It hurts me too, but… I need to save you, before it’s too late. So just hold still, okay?”

“So you can do what, Miku?” challenged Hibiki, “Act on whatever thought they’re putting in your head?”

“That’s not it!” Miku cried, “I’m doing this so you don’t have to fight anymore! Ever since I learned about how much you fight I’ve worried about you so much, and-”

Hibiki cut her off, “I know you do, Miku, but that’s why I fight! If I get stronger and can help more people, maybe one day there won’t be a  _ reason  _ to fight anymore!”

“THAT WILL NEVER HAPPEN!” Miku screamed, the sound echoing off the buildings, “This is a world of horrible monsters and horrible people and they’re going to keep fighting until one side is dead, so just... give up!”

Hibiki flinched, taken aback. Miku had never raised her voice at her like that before.

As if only just realizing what she’d said, Miku wobbled on her feet, and the visor came apart with a hiss, revealing teary green eyes. “I… no, I didn’t mean that, I didn’t, I’m sorry…”

“Miku,” Hibiki began, walking towards her, “Talk to me, please. What are you trying to do?”

“Dr. Ver told me that  Shénshòujìng’s light can dismantle other relics, so if I use it on you, you’ll be healed.”

“What else?”

Miku blinked, then clapped a hand to her own forehead, against the top half of the visor. “What… else… ugh…”

Hibiki pressed on, “We agreed on ‘no more secrets’, right, Miku? I’m listening, I’m right here.”

Up in the tower, Ver snickered. “Looks like Kohinata’s about to reveal that little ‘endgame’ of yours, Jonah.”

“Nonsense,” replied the older man, “We put firewalls in the program to prevent exactly that.”

“Well, I’m the one with the readouts in front of me,” Ver replied, “And I just watched them crumble.”

Jonah whirled on him. “What?”

The mad scientist snickered again. “Seems you underestimated the power of love.”

Down below, Miku’s teeth clenched around her words. “The old man… he said my light could illuminate the future… a world where nobody has to fight with the kaiju, including you. He said...”

Hibiki was close enough to take Miku by the shoulders, gently. “What did he say, Miku?”

“He said it had something to do,” Miku leaned away, but pointed over Hibiki’s shoulder, “With  _ him. _ ”

Hibiki followed Miku’s finger and found it trained on Godzilla, who was much closer than before but still a fair distance away. The tiny bursts of color that were the other wielders darted around him like little flies, their attacks just barely effective enough to slow his progress. The giant monster looked only mildly annoyed, but Hibiki could tell that his patience was fraying.

“He wants you to do something to Godzilla?” Hibiki said, turning back to her sunshine. “What does he want you to do?”

Miku gasped, clearly in pain as tears flowed down her cheeks and veins throbbed in her temples. She pushed Hibiki off her and said, “I don’t know! But I know I need Shénshòujìng to do it!”

“Miku, you have to know that whatever they want you to do is only going to make things worse!”

“But if I don’t do it, I won’t get to heal you!”

“You don’t really want to do this!” Hibiki cried. “Think of everyone else!”

“I don’t care what happens to everyone else!” Miku responded, openly sobbing, “I don’t care what the world is like as long as we can live in it together!”

Hibiki clenched her fists. “Miku, you can’t illuminate any future with light like that. It’s too harsh; it’ll only cast shadows.”

Miku just stared at her, eyes full of pain.

“The world we know was born out of gentle sunlight,” Hibiki continued, voice thin, tugging at her collar, “That’s what your light should be like… that’s the sunshine I know and love.”

“But in this world, you have to fight,” Miku said, softly. “I can’t let you keep fighting.”

Hibiki smiled at her, a sad smile to let Miku know she understood, even if she wasn’t agreeing. “I know, so I’m sorry. I’m going to fight.”

Miku drew the Armed Gear. “No, you aren’t.”

“Yes I am,” replied Hibiki, voice full of resolve. “Right here and right now.  _ Balwisyall nescell Gungnir tron. _ ”

There was sound, and light, and heat. And when the bubble vanished, there stood Hibiki, cloaked in her Symphogear as well as a pale glow about her skin.

“ _ All right, Hibiki-kun, _ ” Genjuro’s voice in her ear, “ _ You don’t have long. You have to disarm her within the next two and a half minutes or you’ll overheat and fuse completely with Gungnir.” _

“I don’t need to disarm her, shishou,” Hibiki replied, fists raised, “I just need to get  _ them _ out of her head.”

“ _ Good luck, Hibiki-kun.” _

“I already told you, Hibiki,” Miku said, as the visor clanked shut over her eyes again, “This is all me. Removing the feedback system won’t change how I feel.”

“I believe these are your feelings, Miku,” Hibiki shot back, “But that thing on your head is changing your rationality.”

Miku lifted off the ground, borne aloft by the air vented from her Gear’s leg armor. “If you insist on fighting, I’ll make sure to win and erase Gungnir so you never have to again.”

Hibiki said no more, and just drew on her burning heart. There was, as always, a song there, so she let it play, let the Gear create the music as she readied herself to fight her best friend.

But Miku had quite the singing voice herself, and Hibiki noticed there was music coming out of Shénshòujìng too. It was all electronic, dissonant notes. A song distorted, but a song nonetheless. And that meant it had power, just the same as any other.

It was overwhelming her own.

_ Senkō…hajimaru sekai, shikkoku…owaru sekai _

The fan flashed, and a beam of purple light tore forth, crackling with the latent power to destroy Hibiki’s Gungnir, the source of her poor health. But she couldn’t let that happen yet, so she ducked around it and made to close the distance. But there was far more power behind her stride than she expected, so she ended up  _ overshooting  _ Miku with her leap, who then turned to face her.

_ Senmetsu…kaeru basho wo, hidamaru basho wo _

More beams of light. Hibiki dodged like she’d never dodged before, weaving back and forth through the storm of projectiles with precise blasts of air from the pistons at both her arms and legs. The tiny part of her concentration that wasn’t focused on evasion told her that she was essentially flying. 

Their battle was observed by the two pairs of eyes in the watchtower, but also by two more, watching a video feed within the grounded Super X-3.

Maria frowned as she did her best to track the fight with un-enhanced eyes. The fusion girl was a glowing blur of orange, and the Kohinata girl refused to let up her offense of Shénshòujìng’s lasers.

“She’s killing herself,” Maria whispered. “Just to try and get through to her friend.”

_ Ryūsei…ano hi wa tōku, tsuioku…subete ga tōku _

Hibiki pushed through, somehow charting a path through the mess of lasers, and charged Miku, hand already reaching out toward that visor, that drift that was clouding Miku’s mind. Her hand was knocked aside by Miku’s fan, and before Hibiki could catch herself and blast away, those trailing tendrils had wrapped her arms and legs, holding her in place.

_ Kaeshite… kaeshite… zankyō ga nukumoru uta _

But before Miku could even begin to fire a big enough blast to clear Hibiki’s body entirely, she drew on the very source of her approaching death and focused the heat to where the bindings held her. They burned away in an instant, and Hibiki took that opportunity to rocket above, to a safer distance, even as she burned inside.

And Miku came after her, inexorable as the Sun’s rays.

Maria watched it all, fist clenched so tight that her nails drew blood.

“What did Ver and Jonah do to that girl…”

_ Yubi wo surinukeru, kimi no hidarite _

Miku swung the fan with all her might, and Hibiki managed to turn away the blow, then dodge the blast of light that immediately followed. She curved her body around what would have been a devastating kick, righted herself, and punched her best friend in the gut. She’d used no pistons, but the impact was still immense thanks to her critical power. 

More important than how strong the blow was, however, was how loud it was.

Godzilla’s head turned after he made a halfhearted snap at the pink-clad human pestering him. His eyes scanned the city’s skyline, and he located two more of the little armored ones. In fact, he recognized one of them. She was putting out easily as much power as she had during their recent bout. She was also somewhat close to the source of that infernal sound.

Godzilla swatted away the annoyances and roared, taking greater and quicker strides towards the city. He wasn’t sure what was going on with this particular band of humans, but he was sure that he had to shut it down.

_ Watashi datte kimi wo mamoritainda…! _

Though her song continued unabated, Miku suddenly turned in Godzilla’s direction at his roar. Panels in her leg armor opened, and out came twin arcs of material that met above her head, forming a ring. Purple light danced around its edges, concentrating, readying to fire. 

“What’s that?!” Ver gasped, prompting a hearty laugh from Jonah.

“That is the extra directive I had programmed into your little Pons system,” replied the eco-terrorist, “With how integrated it is with Shénshòujìng, the Gear should have a new use for its reflective powers.”

Ver’s eyes widened behind his glasses. “You didn’t.”

Jonah’s face was beyond smug, an expression of pure victory. “When that beam strikes Godzilla, he’ll have all his worst memories pushed to the front of his mind. His inhibitions will slip away, and the destructive power the world saw in 1954 will rise to the surface.”

“Then he’s…”

Jonah nodded. “He’s going to exterminate the human race, completely of his own volition.”

Then, something unexpected happened.

Miku broke free of the ring, yet it remained intact, hovering above the ancient skyline.

“No,” she growled, thrashing in the air, fingers practically pulling at her own hair, “This isn’t… no, I have to help Hibiki…!”

_ Ano natsukashi no memoria, futari wo tsumugu melody wo _

Hibiki was practically on top of her when Miku landed her second attempt at a kick, sending Hibiki hurtling down into the ancient street. Intent on not letting Hibiki dodge this time, Miku immediately prepared to fire. Time was running out; she had to hit her soon. 

But Hibiki wasn’t ready to let that happen yet. She offered a silent apology to the builders of this ancient city and stomped her foot hard, with a piston added on to create an additional impact. The sheer force of both strikes sent a slab of the street into the air, which Hibiki wasted no time striking with her fist, sending it flying towards Miku. the chunk of stone absorbed the blast of light that had been meant for Hibiki, then shattered into harmless pebbles, destroyed by Shénshòujìng’s energy.

_ Kako mo kyō mo, sō soshite... mirai mo! _

A rush of air, a blast of force. Hibiki’s punch, caught in Miku’s hand. A swing with her Armed Gear, blocked by Hibiki’s gauntlet. A momentary stalemate, one where Miku could feel the burning heat coming off her loved one’s body. One where Hibiki searched for the familiar eyes she knew so well, hidden behind the glow of the visor.

The suspended moment ended when the cold mechanical decision-making of the Pons system recommended that Miku kick her best friend in the face. The blow was struck, a high kick that Miku hadn’t thought she was flexible enough for, one that clicked Hibiki’s teeth together as it sent her toward the cavern ceiling.

_ Watashi wa zettai yuzuranai, mō tōku ni wa ikasenai _

Hibiki hadn’t been hit with enough force to slam her into the ceiling, but she figured she might as well make use of her new positioning. She kicked herself ever higher, up towards a stalactite. One precise punch broke it loose, so Hibiki braced herself against the severed end and kicked again, sending herself and her makeshift battering ram down, down, down.

Even as she moved out of the way, the artificial, analytical addition to Miku’s mind wondered why Hibiki thought such a telegraphed attack would work. The emotional and natural part knew that Hibiki would never truly try to hurt her, but that begged the question: what was she trying to do?

_ Konna ni suki da yo... nē…daisuki da yo! _

The stalactite pierced the already-ruined street and began to crumble. Miku lifted herself up to the blunt, wide top, expecting to find Hibiki there as the driving force and finally finish this battle. When there was nothing more than rock to find, Miku knew something was amiss and turned on machine-augmented instinct to find a hand outstretched toward her face.

The feedback system screamed at her to parry it, to send Hibiki crashing to the floor once again, but Miku’s heart proved itself stronger once more with a simple observation.

It was not a fist streaking toward her face. It was a hand.

And so it was with a sung proclamation of love that Miku just ducked and floated away, letting Hibiki’s attempt to reach the visor fail.

The song faded.

“Why, Hibiki?” Miku asked. “You’re dying… right now. Do you not know that? Why are you okay with that?”

“I’m not!” challenged Hibiki, wiping sweat and dirt off her face. “I don’t want to die, but I also can’t just sit there while you become a weapon for the bad guys! This isn’t you, Miku!”

“ _ Hibiki-kun, you’re under a minute now, _ ” Genjuro’s voice warned in her ear, sounding more worried than she’d ever heard him.

_ Is that enough?  _ Hibiki thought to herself.  _ If it’s not… I’ll make more time. I have to. _

“This is me,” Miku insisted. “This is all I want: for you to stop fighting, even if that means I have to… take away your strength… ngh…”

_ I’m almost through to her,  _ Hibiki realized. “You don’t want this, and I’ll make you realize it by pulling that thing off your head.”

Then, Hibiki’s song began again. It began with those familiar bagpipes, yet was a new song, one echoing her burning heart’s feelings. Behind them, closer than ever, Godzilla let out his echoing roar, sensing the spike in Hibiki’s already high phonic gain.

She had more power than ever. While it lasted, she was going to use it. She was going to save Miku. And she didn’t plan on dying in the process.

As the two girls conversed, Maria clutched at her own Gungnir, drawn from the same spearhead as the shard that was killing Hibiki.

She thought about everything that had brought her to her position. She glanced at one of the people responsible. Nastassja- Mom- resting on a cot, watching the battle with her one eye.

Maria turned back to the monitor. Looked at these two young women who cared so deeply for each other, manipulated, pushed to fight each other by the people she had chosen to work with.

“No more,” Maria said, getting to her feet. “I’m done with this.”

Nastassja sat up. “Are you certain of this?”

Maria nodded in response, helping the woman into her wheelchair. “This is the first thing I have been certain of in a long time. What we’ve been doing... was the wrong path to take.”

“Then what is the correct one?” Nastassja asked, rolling after Maria as they made to leave the jet.

Maria smiled wistfully. “Our time in the Institute made me think that this species had lost its way. But those girls, their purity, their selfless willingness to defend the innocent…”

Nastassja chuckled, hiding a cough. “I see. That girl’s optimism is infectious, isn’t it?”

“Kohinata told me a lot about that girl while I was watching over her,” Maria admitted. “If there are enough people out there like her… maybe there can be peace one day.”

“I don’t think your heart was ever really in this anyway,” Nastassja said. “I thought this would be the only way to make a push for coexistence, but I’m willing to try something new in the time I have left. I will follow you, Maria.”

Maria nodded, clutching her pendant. “I’ll deal with Jonah’s men. You see if you can stop the ORCA.” 

Maria’s cloak of shadows flowed behind her as she strode out of the Super X-3 to the sound of Hibiki’s song beginning, and Godzilla’s furious roar.

In the underground sky, Hibiki charged forward.

_ Ikuoku no rekishi wo koete _

Fist met fan, and Miku’s eyes widened behind the visor as the sheer power behind Hibiki’s blow pushed her back. She really had been holding back the whole time, and it seemed that now, gradually, Hibiki was removing her limiters. The follow-through of the mighty blow pushed Miku’s Armed Gear out of the way, and she found her face defenseless before a second punch.

_ Kono mune no (Go) toikake ni (Go) kotae yo Shine _

Again, artificially-boosted action brought her guard up just in time, but that wasn’t enough to deter Hibiki. Punch after punch pushed Miku back as Hibiki stayed level with well-timed kicks, her temperature rising with her power. Miku could hardly imagine the pain she had to be feeling in every part of her body.

_ Honō yori, atsui omoi yo _

“Enough!” she yelled, swinging the fan, but Hibiki caught the edge and pulled, yanking Miku toward her as her free hand reached out for the visor once again. It seemed the feedback system had some form of self-preservation, because it had Miku dodge the attempt like her very life depended on it.

_ Kōtetsu no (Go) ikadzuchi de (Go) buttobase My Gungnir! _

Hibiki made mad scrambles for the visor over and over, and each time Miku barely managed to evade. Without it, she wouldn’t have proper control over Shénshòujìng. She wouldn’t be able to purify Gungnir from within Hibiki.

Down below, something else was happening. The men stationed within the ancient buildings around the Super X-3 found themselves being knocked unconscious by quick, sharp blows courtesy of Maria. And, just a scant kilometer or so away, Godzilla trudged onward, slowed but undeterred by Tsubasa, Chris, Kirika, and Shirabe’s efforts.

_ Nando demo tachiagareru sa _

The floating ring held still in the air and crackled with energy even as chaos reigned all around in the ancient city. An uphill battle for a titan of nature, a personal conflict between an inseparable pair, a bid for redemption by one who had resigned themselves to the role of villain.

Godzilla pushed through, swatting his claws and tail at the Symphogear wielders trying desperately to slow him. Hibiki reached, tried to pry off the device injecting cold, artificial logic into Miku’s warm heart. Maria darted about, knocking out the normal humans, misguided as she had been, that had given themselves to Jonah’s genocidal ambitions.

_ Chotto dake (Go) kita michi wo (Go) mite goran? _

Shénshòujìng’s cables, which had long since repaired themselves, lashed out, striking at Hibiki, trying to push her back. Hibiki parried the blows, but found herself losing ground in the air as Miku pressed her newfound advantage. Hibiki’s breaths came in hisses as the heat within her burned more and more intensely. She could actually feel parts of herself turning into metamaterial. It hurt like hell, but she couldn’t afford to give in. If she did, it would only get worse.

_ Konna ni mo kagayaite iru _

Miku kept up her assault, building power for a blast of light even as she kept Hibiki on the defensive. If she could just hit the chunk of Gungnir lodged in Hibiki’s chest, that would be enough. The rest of it spreading through her body could be dealt with after she was no longer capable of fighting back. Still, she was cutting it close. Visible steam rose from Hibiki’s skin as her parries came faster and faster, until she was no longer losing ground.

_ Tsumiageta (Go) monogatari (Go) uso wa nani mo nai _

Even as Hibiki sang on, Genjuro’s voice crackled in her ear again.

“ _ Hibiki-kun, you’re running out of time! At this rate, you’re going to completely fuse with Gungnir! _ ”

Hibiki’s eyes narrowed as she closed in on Miku through the lashes of Shénshòujìng’s cables. Almost out of time. When that happened, the relic’s metamaterial would overtake her organic body, and she would painfully, irreversibly, die.

Die. She’d come close to dying before. Quite a few times, at that. The very day this relic shard became buried in her chest, she’d very nearly bled out. She would have, if not for the timely arrival of Mothra.

She had no plans to expire here.

“I CAN’T DIE!” Hibiki roared, cutting off her song for just a moment to punch the air hard, creating a massive gust of air that shoved Miku dozens of meters back. Minimizing the recoil with mighty kicks, Hibiki charged, now in control of the situation.

_ "Itsuka mirai ni hito wa tsunagareru…" _

“Why, Hibiki?!” Miku screamed, opening the fan completely to let fly with a dozen lasers at once. The air tore around Hibiki as she shot forward, curving her body to let the lines of relic-destroying power pass her by. 

“Why can’t you just let me do this?! You need to stop fighting!”

Hibiki ignored her and pressed on.

_ Daiji na (Fly) tomo kara (Fly) _

Nastassja rolled through the 20,000-year-old doorway, her entrance silent compared to the cacophony outside. Wordlessly, she raised a pistol, aiming directly at the head of the man before her. As if he’d sensed her, Asher Jonah turned, raising his hands as soon as he saw the gun Nastassja held. 

“Step away from the ORCA, young man, or, make no mistake, I will shoot you.”

“You’re the one making a mistake,” the man muttered, stepping away from the briefcase-like transmitter.

Nastassja kept the gun pointed at him even as she disconnected the device from the watchtower’s sound system. “And you’ve been blindly following your father.”

_ Moratta kotoba zettai (zettai) yume (yume) tsumugu kara _

Godzilla blinked. That awful sound had quieted, its source changed to a pinpoint that he could track more easily from this close. At the same time, he sensed a buildup of power in the air, and his eyes found a pinpoint of purplish light suspended at roughly his own head height.

At the same time, Hibiki whaled on her best friend, her fists coming down like hammers one after the other, trying to destroy the spread fan of Shénshòujìng’s Armed Gear to leave Miku, or rather the direct feedback system, defenseless.

_ Hibike (hibike) tsutae (tsutae) utae (utae) _

“You’re rather quiet, Doctor,” Jonah observed, watching Ver’s face as the younger man’s eyes roamed the triple-faceted battlefield. “Not the least bit impressed by what your inventions can do?”

The madman’s teeth ground together. “I’m a scientist. You’ve taken my work and research and weaponized it to commit genocide on an improbable scale. I wanted my efforts to help people return to the old balance with monsters, not be wiped out and struggle for survival at their feet.”

“And there’s your problem,” scoffed Jonah. “Always thinking of yourself, never the bigger picture. You thought your work was contributing to this cause, but that was never your main motivation. You’re a coward.”

_ Zenkai de ai no banka yo todoroite _

Maria jumped, high in the air, making absolutely sure Godzilla could see her and the briefcase she held, retrieved by Nastassja; the ORCA. The radioactive leviathan snarled as the source of the horrible sound came into view.

With a grunt of effort, Maria threw the ORCA at him. It smashed to the floor, immediately crippling the device beyond almost all functionality, but any chance it might have had at being repaired vanished when Godzilla put his foot down on it with no small amount of satisfaction. His goal accomplished, Godzilla pondered turning and leaving. But there were still all these humans around his onetime home, using songs like Mothra did, pestering him.

_ Hibike (hibike) tsutae (tsutae) utae (utae) _

“ _ Hibiki-kun, you’re out of time! Disengage now! That’s an order! _ ”

Hibiki ignored him and fought on, weaving around every attack Miku threw at her with increasing ease as her power increased, closing the gap every time Miku retreated to create a new one. She didn’t feel like she was dying yet. Sure, she was on fire inside, but as far as Hibiki could tell, she was still moving fine. Either the S.O.N.G. team had made an error in the calculations somewhere, or Hibiki’s indomitable will to fight on was keeping the fusion at bay, delaying it as much as she could.

_ Soshite! Yūki mo nani mo kamo wo zenbu tabaneyō _

“Fighting is wrong, Hibiki,” Miku whispered, more to herself than her shining Sun. “Things have gotten worse and worse as you’ve kept on fighting. If we keep fighting the monsters like we have, there’s no future. And now you’re on death’s door… I can’t let this continue…”

And then, it happened, even as Hibiki dodged around the lasers, getting closer and closer.

Spikes of bright gold metamaterial erupted from Hibiki’s flesh in momentary spatters of blood, spearing out of her scar and shoulders, her thighs and forearms. She let out a short scream, choked with agony, but still she kept on coming as Gungnir at last began to take its final steps to end her life.

_ I’m too late?!  _ Miku thought, panic ripping through her mind, stopping her attacks.  _ No, she’s still alive, but this fight… it’s just killing her faster! I have to stop! But... _

“This isn’t what I want,” Miku gasped, gripping the visor, pulling at it, wrestling with its presence in her mind. “It isn’t, but…!”

The visor gave, wrenched open by Miku’s clawing fingers. In her mind, the feedback system roared at her, at the illogicality of her actions, but she fought it more and more as Hibiki found her singing voice again through her own pain.

_ Kimi to watashi, minna, minna _

Words hadn’t worked. Fighting hadn’t worked. Hibiki had tried her usual tactics already. At least the visor was off, seemingly of Miku’s own volition, but Hibiki’s sunshine was still thrashing, fighting with herself. It wasn’t just the visor, the strange mind control was rooted deeper.

Yet, Miku was almost out. It was clear to Hibiki that success was in reach, but what could she do in her current state, so close to complete fusion?

_ Ayumi kitta, ashiato ni donna hana ga saku no kanā? _

Hibiki figured it out, and lunged toward the off-kilter Miku with just one intent. Not to punch or kick, not to hurt her anymore, in any way.

Instead, as she closed the distance, close enough to see the whites of Miku’s tortured eyes, Hibiki spread her arms, and tackled her with a hug.

_ Hibike (hibike) tsutae (tsutae) utae (utae) _

Just like that, it broke.

Not Miku’s mind, but the direct feedback system.

Shénshòujìng vibrated and hissed and  _ purged  _ the newer tech from itself at its wielder’s fervent behest. The Pons headgear came loose, spat out by the Symphogear, and plummeted the long, long way to the floor.

“Hibiki!” Miku cried, her mind free at last, “Let me go! I won’t be able to use this Gear for much longer, I still have to save you!”

“I’m not letting you go, Miku! Never again, but especially not now!” Hibiki bit out through the pain. “That ring is still aimed at Godzilla!”

_ Soshite! Mata au sono hi made egao no "sayonara" da! _

Preoccupied with holding Miku tight, Hibiki had only one manner of propulsion, one she had been saving. Jets at her hips came to life with fiery roars as she rolled the pair of them in the air and rocketed over to the hovering, crackling ring. She placed herself and Miku between it and the giant monster, who was closer than ever, staring them down with narrowed orange eyes. In just a few more strides, he’d be on top of them.

_ Zettai ni…zettai ni…! _

“You can’t stop it from firing?” Hibiki gasped, even as more spikes of relic tore free of her flesh, spattering blood onto her cheek.

“I-it’s operating independently, under the orders the feedback system gave it!” Miku cried, “But, Hibiki, you have to-”

_ It’s going to fire?  _ Hibiki thought, turning her head to the humming ring.  _ I can barely move now, there’s no way to stop it… but at least… _

Hibiki took Miku by the shoulders. Offered her a smile, an apologetic one that was still full of love and warmth.

Then she threw her, down and away with all the force she could manage. The effort actually snapped one of her arms off at her bicep as it went entirely rigid, more relic than flesh. The severed limb shattered into points of light as it detached, only for a new arm, glittering gold, to sprout from the stump that was left behind.

“HIBIKIIIII!” Miku screamed.

Their eyes were still locked when the ring fired, and a massive beam of light engulfed Hibiki, so bright that nary a silhouette was visible within.

Then it kept going, toward its true, intended target, who simply snarled and stood his ground, confident that whatever this was had no chance of truly hurting him.

Shénshòujìng’s light slammed directly into Godzilla’s face, then shot past, impacting the ceiling, drilling its way through to the surface of the Earth and beyond.

Both beings in the line of fire promptly lost consciousness, albeit for different reasons.

Godzilla slumped forward, managing not to fall over as those orange eyes rolled back in his head and a low growl escaped his massive throat.

Hibiki passed out from the pain as every last atom of Gungnir within her was obliterated, her body purified back to its original flesh-and-blood by Shénshòujìng’s primary power. This included the brand-new arm that she had sprouted, which hung limp with the rest of her limbs as she started to fall, entirely devoid of clothes with her Gear gone.

“HIBIKI!” Miku cried, trying desperately to control the Symphogear she wore without the feedback system providing her knowledge. “No, hang on, I’m coming!”

After a short but agonizing moment of watching Hibiki’s body plummet, Miku managed to trigger a burst of air from the Gear’s leg armor that launched her Hibiki’s way. She barely made it. Hibiki hadn’t been falling for long enough that she was moving quickly, but Miku was, and cringed at how roughly she caught her unconscious love.

Now she had to land.

In full panic mode, Miku scanned her surroundings, the ancient city they’d been battling in. Godzilla, having gotten unsettlingly close before Shénshòujìng’s ray struck him, was taking up a whole lot of potential landing space.

Miku chose a taller dwelling, one that looked like it had enough floors to properly break her fall. When her armored legs smashed through with no resistance, she remembered that she was about as durable as the average megafauna, and that a fall like that really wasn’t an issue.

Then Shénshòujìng vanished in a flurry of purple particles, leaving her in her dirty casual clothes, and causing her and Hibiki to collapse in a heap on the building’s topmost floor instead of smashing through it like they had the ceiling.

Though she’d rather painfully tweaked her ankle, Miku had dealt with that before during her time on the track team. As such, she paid the pain no mind as she scrambled over to Hibiki’s unconscious form.

“Hibiki, no, no, please be okay, you have to be okay, if you died I wouldn’t…”

Miku blinked away tears, pleasantly surprised. Hibiki’s chest was rising and falling in a sleeplike fashion, and her body had only the normal warmth to it that Miku knew so well. There was no more burning heat to her, no more bright gold spikes poking out of her skin. All that remained was that dark  _ forte  _ scar, but there was no hard lump beneath it when Miku experimentally poked the skin.

There was a new scar, too, encircling her bicep where the old arm had broken off and the new one had grown from. Evidently turning a purely-relic chunk of Hibiki back to human had been demanding, even for Shénshòujìng’s purification powers.

But she was safe. At least until Godzilla awoke.

Finally thinking straight, Miku’s mind turned to her prior actions, and felt a strange trepidation rise in her at the thought of what they might have had her do to the giant monster. If the integration of the Pons headset, the feedback system, had altered Shénshòujìng’s functionality to the extent that it had, perhaps it had altered the properties of its attacks as well…

Miku banished the worries from her mind and focused on hefting Hibiki onto her shoulder, trying not to be conscious of her nudity. They’d seen each other in the nude before, of course, but never in quite so extreme a situation.

Godzilla was cold.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been this cold. As a hatchling, maybe, before his inner fire awoke? No doubt he’d been cold on other occasions, but his past suddenly seemed foggy. Looking backward grew more difficult the more he tried.

He wasn’t even certain that he was conscious. He certainly wasn’t seeing anything, and no light was shining from his spines to illuminate his surroundings.

He was sinking. Or perhaps rising? It didn’t feel like he was swimming, but rather like he was being borne aloft by some strange, external force.

_ That _ stirred memories within him; unpleasant memories of The Invader, The Enemy, The Fallen Star. The One whose baleful lightning had lifted Godzilla from the ground as if he weighed nothing on that fateful day, when the very skies burned, and cast him aside to make way for the mightier denizens of Earth. A painful reminder that for all his spirit and vigor, he was but a weakling.

Not anymore, Godzilla reminded himself. He was a true force of Nature now.

He frowned, brows knitting.

How had that happened?

His kind was not known to die of old age. Few of the kaiju were, in fact. In conjunction with that, however, came a very long period of growth. He had reached his previous height 30 million years into his 250 million of life. After that, he had spent a long time being smaller than the rest of his kin. He had still been tall for a kaiju, but his race was supposed to be the largest, the strongest. And for a very, very long time, he… wasn’t.

How had he ended up so massive, larger than almost any of his kin, in the present? The question irked Godzilla more than he cared to admit, mostly because he felt it was something that he already knew.

All of a sudden, Godzilla wasn’t drifting endlessly in some nondescript emptiness. He felt the unmistakable, familiar coolness of the ocean’s waters surrounding him on all sides, bearing him up towards the life-giving light at the surface.

His great head broke the surface, into the pleasant sunlight. The water, warm by the ocean’s standards but far less so than the fire in his chest, cascaded off his scales as he shook his head from side to side a bit. His surroundings didn’t make him think of a place where the sea could get deep enough to induce pitch dark. It was all islands and reefs. It was a beautiful day.

Then Godzilla looked up.

There was light, blinding light. Heat. Force. Fire. Pain.

And Godzilla remembered.

He remembered it  _ all. _

He remembered the  _ humans. _

Though his world had ceased to be anything more than a cacophony of sound and sensation, though the dirty fire should have burned his throat to ash, Godzilla screamed.

John Wayne Vercingetorix had never been so nervous in all his life. Not when he’d applied at Yale, not when he’d gone through the Federal Institute of Sacrists’ background screening, not when Nastassja had approached him about assistance during her little rebellion after the whole Fin é fiasco in Japan.

No, all of that paled in comparison to standing atop a 20,000-year-old watchtower with a genocidal misanthrope, waiting for the aforementioned misanthrope’s engine of destruction to wake up.

Because if Godzilla woke up and rampaged, wiped humankind off the face of the planet, that would be on  _ Ver’s  _ head. He had played right into Jonah’s hands, and Jonah knew it, based on the sheer smug aura he was giving off as the pair of them observed the titan twitching in his “sleep”.

Hundreds and hundreds of miles away, Miki Saegusa had been overwhelmed by emotion too, but not her own. Instead, all of Godzilla’s feelings burned in her brain. Every flash of grief and anger and sadness drove a spike of agony into her temples. She could hardly stand with how quickly they were coming.

“What’s… happening?” she grunted. “Where is… he? Not even when I first connected to him…”

Her legs unexpectedly gave out, and she didn’t even have the willpower to break her fall with her arms. Miki just laid there, consumed by the worst pain she’d ever felt.

“What’s… wrong? Godzilla…”

The nuclear abomination’s eyelids fluttered.

Tsubasa, Chris, Kirika, and Shirabe stood watch around him, perched on buildings at what they hoped were safe distances.

“Hey, old man,” Chris said into comms, “How’s the idiot?”

Genjuro’s voice answered her blessedly quickly, “ _ Miku-kun brought her in just a minute ago. She seems stable enough, but Land Mogeura doesn’t have an infirmary either, so we can’t check for everything we want to.” _

“Great,” replied Chris, “Now get yourselves outta here. I get the feeling Big G’s gonna be pissed when he wakes up.”

“ _ We’ve already retreated from the area. We’re not just leaving you behind, though. _ ”

Chris shrugged, grip tightening on her crossbows as Godzilla’s fists clenched and unclenched, his sleep-spasms gradually growing more violent. 

Then, it was Miku’s voice on the line. “ _ Chris, listen. I’m worried that the changes they made to  _ _ Shénshòujìng might have altered its attack properties. That’s why he’s unconscious now… they might be trying to mind-control him, or something. _ ”

Chris couldn’t help the frown that overtook her face as she relayed that information to the other three. Such a powerful monster in the hands of eco-terrorists wasn’t her idea of a fun time.

“What should we do, Mom?” Maria asked, turning away from the great dark form of the monster.

Nastassja shrugged. “I’m following you now, Maria. If you want to wait on Godzilla, feel free. Do you think this is far enough away for us to be safe, though?”

“Safe from him?” Maria confirmed, “You think he’ll be angrier when he wakes?”

“I only have a conversation I overheard to go off of,” Nastassja shared, “But I believe Jonah wished to erase Godzilla’s inhibitions, remind him of his suffering. In essence…”

Maria felt the blood leave her face. “He wants to revert him to that day in 1954.”

Nastassja nodded slowly. “That’s right. And considering how many people died back then, when the monster was half this size and crippled… he’d be more than capable of wiping us out with his new power.”

“What can we do?”

Nastassja tried to laugh, but a cough caught her midway through, resulting in a wheeze. “Not much of anything. Hope that those two weren’t able to engineer Shénshòujìng to function that way.”

Then, as if on cue, Godzilla woke up.

He slowly rose from his sleeping slouch, straightening his spiked back to ascend back to his full height. His breaths were heavy, almost labored. Tension made every muscle in his body stand out, and his tail lashed threateningly from side to side.

His black lips curled away from great white fangs. A horrific snarl overtook his expression as a low growl escaped Godzilla’s throat.

Then his eyes opened.

They were clouded over, a pale, milky white that almost entirely hid his irises and pupils. 

That familiar rumble filled the air as Godzilla filled his chest.

Then he threw his head back, and all present covered their ears; an exercise in futility.

The sound he made was not the one they had grown familiar with in the modern day, the pitch-shifting, echoing “skreeonk” that offered a glimpse of the power within. No, the sound he made in the cavern, so loud that it dislodged some of the smaller stalactites from the ceiling, was familiar in a different way.

It was the single most well-known sound in human history, a sound every man, woman, and child had heard at least once in documentary footage. It was the sound Godzilla had made when he waded ashore in Tokyo on November 3, 1954.

A deep, mournful bellow, full of every negative emotion the monster was capable of feeling. A dark howl promising death, violence and revenge.

A sound once described by Ota Murakami as Godzilla’s scream.

The roar petered out, Godzilla shifted his weight, and took stock of his surroundings.

Humans. Several of them. Too many to let live.

A chorus of thumps, and a beam of blue fire.

Aimed directly at Chris.

It was coming harder, faster, than anything she’d seen from him before. She barely had time to open the compartments attached to her hip armor to dispense her reflectors. These reflectors had (barely) managed to turn away the first shot of Fin é’s Kadingir way back, with the power boost from her Superb Song. Even without the added phonic gain of her last resort, Chris had every reason to be confident in their ability to defend against Godzilla.

Imagine her shock when the heat ray hit and immediately began shredding into them. Her strongest defense, a momentary nuisance at best. The hovering crystals were going fast, and if a few more crumbled, she’d take the full brunt of the atomic breath.

“Yukine!”

An arm wrapped around Chris’s waist, and she let out a strangled noise of surprise as Tsubasa jumped again, taking the pair of them out from behind the reflectors just as the last of them gave out.

Tsubasa and Chris were no longer in the path of the stream of nuclear fire, but they still felt the shockwave of its impact in their bones. A towering explosion blossomed, flattening dozens of ancient structures in an instant. Tens of millennia of history, erased by a single act of malice.

The way Godzilla’s face contorted as he turned his head to track Tsubasa’s leap confirmed that there was a whole lot more malice where that came from.

“How the hell did that idiot fight against him, even with her power?” Chris gasped as Tsubasa touched down. “That practically ignored my reflectors!”

“He’s furious,” Tsubasa murmured. “He must be able to modulate the output of the heat ray.”

“You mean that fight the idiot got into with him,” said Chris, fear creeping into her tones, “The one she said consisted of him knocking her around while she tried her damnedest- was Godzilla  _ holding back? _ ”

The horrible low wail sounded from Godzilla’s mouth again as he broke into the kaiju equivalent of a run. In just a few colossal strides, he was practically on top of them, an unstoppable, 89,000 ton juggernaut of black scales. 

Tsubasa jumped again, this time straight upward. “Get back, Yukine!”

Chris obliged even as she asked, “The hell is your plan, senpai?!”

Tsubasa didn’t answer, because she was far too busy focusing power into her Armed Gear.

She could make her sword pretty big. Usually twenty meters was plenty for any situation, but this wasn’t just _ any situation _ . This was one of, if not the most powerful kaiju on the planet in a berserk rage. 

Tsubasa would spare no expense.

The blade grew, and grew, and grew some more, becoming thicker and broader and sturdier with each new layer of metamaterial. She felt the effort draining her as her jump began to lose momentum, and the colossal sword weighed heavy in her hands.

After just a few moments, Tsubasa was holding over her head a blade of gargantuan proportions, likely the largest ever seen on Earth. It was easily eighty meters long, made of pure solidified phonic power. It was a weapon to make any kaiju think twice, for it was  _ larger  _ than the vast majority of monsters.

Godzilla was not just  _ any kaiju. _

Tsubasa’s arms strained as she swung the immense sword down with a shout of exertion. She knew something like this wouldn’t kill Godzilla, but she was at least hoping the trauma of a deep enough wound would snap him out of whatever mental state  Shénshòujìng had enforced upon him.

When the sword lurched to a stop, Tsubasa allowed herself a small smile, believing herself to have cut through to bone. But then she realized something. She wasn’t even halfway through her swing. The sword shouldn’t have even touched him yet. She kept pushing even as her confusion mounted.

Meanwhile, Chris, Kirika and Shirabe took in the sight before them with mounting terror.

Because what they saw, Tsubasa could not.

They saw the flat of the gigantic sword pinned between Godzilla’s mighty palms, held in place above his head, the sharp edge never having reached his scaly brow. He’d  _ caught it. _

His own muscles strained as he pressed his hands against the blade, colossal claws carving grooves into the metamaterial even as the blade started to crack under the pressure.

With a grunt of effort, Godzilla shattered the eighty-meter sword, which promptly vanished in a mist of azure energy. Tsubasa scanned the titan for damage as she began to fall, only for a hand of icy dread to take hold of her heart when she found exactly none.

Tsubasa said, “Huh?” 

“Retreat,” Genjuro ordered from within Land Moguera, trying desperately not to let his own terror show in his voice. “We’re getting out of here, right now.”

“No way in hell!” Chris replied. “If he really is back in his K-Day mindset, we can’t let him leave this cave, or he’ll kill billions of people!”

“Don’t kid yourself!” Genjuro replied, nearly yelling. “None of you have even the slightest chance of beating him now!”

“We have to try, don’t we?” Kirika added, jumping on the line. “All of this is partly our fault. It wouldn’t be right if we ran away now, dess!”

Shirabe joined in even as she rolled Godzilla’s way, “She’s right. If we don’t at least try to stop him here, we wouldn’t really be repenting, would we?”

“You kids-”

“I can’t speak to their reasons,” Tsubasa interrupted after finding her footing, “But I am a guardian. No matter the odds, I am honor-bound to fight to my final breath to protect those who cannot protect themselves.”

“I’ll be damned before I let this scaly sonuvabitch pull a Tokyo again,” Chris declared, opening fire on the enraged giant’s neck, “I’m not gonna sit back and watch the whole world go up in smoke!”

“Great kids you got there,” Shinjo commented, steering Land Moguera away from the imminent battle. “They’re gonna die, but I respect it.”

“Please, wait!”

Everyone on the bridge turned to find Hibiki sitting up, alert as can be.

“Hibiki!” Miku exclaimed at her side. “You need to lay back down, you shouldn’t be moving yet!”

“I’ve never felt better, Miku,” Hibiki protested, before quietly adding, “Thanks, by the way.”

Miku’s face flushed. “You’d do the same for me. You basically did.”

“Hibiki-kun, you don’t have a Gear anymore,” Genjuro offered her in a stern reminder. 

“I might not, but there’s still something I’ve gotta do! At least let me out here before you get further away-”

“Absolutely not! You’ll be dead in minutes, Godzilla’s hell-bent on murdering every human in this cavern!”

“He’s gonna have more to worry about than humans in a bit, shishou,” Hibiki said, with utmost confidence, “Mothra’s almost here.”

Cries of disbelief in Land Moguera.

“How do you know, Hibiki?” Miku pressed.

Hibiki smiled, getting to her feet and smoothing out the spare shirt they’d had Miku put on her. “The Shobijin talked to me while I was out. With her on the battlefield, Godzilla will be way too distracted to go after little old me!”

Genjuro ground the heel of his hand into the bridge of his nose, debating with himself.

Then, after a beat, “Stop this thing, Shinjo.”

“You’re all completely insane,” grumbled the pilot, even as he complied and hit the brakes.

“I’m trusting you, Hibiki-kun,” Genjuro said, ruffling her hair, “Don’t go breaking that by dying.”

“Hatch’s open,” Shinjo reported, defeat in his voice.

“Hibiki…” Miku began, but trailed off as she realized she didn’t know what to say.

Hibiki, already halfway up the ladder, turned and met her sunshine’s gaze. “Yeah, Miku… I know. This isn’t your fault.”

And just like that, she was gone.

Ver leaned on the stone railing of the watchtower, eyes boring a hole into empty space as his mind raced at a thousand miles per hour. He could scarcely hear himself thinking over the cacophony of battle, Godzilla’s howls, and Jonah’s victorious chuckling, but Ver still tried to think.

“I’ve just ended the world as we know it,” he whispered to himself.

“You most certainly have, Doctor!” replied Jonah, who sounded downright jubilant. “My congratulations and humble thanks to you!”

“This is your fault!” roared the mad scientist, rounding on Jonah, but before he could do anything a fist cracked into his jaw.

Jonah glared down at him with disgusted eyes. “You’re as much to blame for this as I am, John. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Then he reached for his hip, drawing a customized revolver. “As thankful as I am- and I  _ am  _ thankful- I’m afraid I simply don’t like you, Doctor.”

Ver reached into his coat with one hand, and grasped for his laptop with the other as he got to his feet. “Oh, I assure you, it’s mutual, old man.” snarled the scientist.

“I’d say it’s been fun,” Jonah began as he pulled back the hammer, “But it really hasn’t. John Wayne Vercingetorix, you are relieved of duty.”

He pulled the trigger.

In an abnormal display of reflexes, Ver managed to protect his face with his laptop. To Jonah’s surprise, the round didn’t pierce right through the device and rather just dented its shell. A rather heavy-duty computer, it seemed.

So he dropped his arm a bit and emptied the remaining bullets into the mad scientist’s gut. The laptop clattered to the floor. 

“Poor bugger,” Jonah commented, storing the gun as he turned to watch the ongoing human-kaiju battle, “If you’d just let me blow your head off this’d be painless.”

Ver’s only response was a wave of blood from his mouth.

“Disgusting, but at least you aren’t talking.”

“Jesus… fucking… Christ,” Ver finally gasped, “You’re the one… who should shut up…”

Then Jonah noticed the hand still in Ver’s lab coat. His arm had been across his body, so two of the bullets had ended up there rather than in his intestines. That was probably the only reason he was still talking.

“What’re you hiding, John?” Jonah laughed, spreading his arms. “Did you bring a gun too? Oh, that’d be a sight to see: you of all people, trying to aim a bullet at me while you bleed out.”

“Please,” Ver spat out, along with another glob of blood, “I’m not… a barbarian… like you.”

And from within his coat, Dr. Ver produced a syringe. An incredibly small one, but one full of some bright red liquid- blood?

Ver clamped his teeth down on his own sleeve and lifted it to expose some skin. With his shaking, bullet-ridden arm he hastily stabbed the syringe into his flesh, not even bothering to look for a vein.

Ver let out a strangled gurgle as his body contorted in agony.

“What the bloody hell did you just do?!” Jonah roared.

Ver’s scream morphed into maniacal laughter as, before Jonah’s eyes, the undamaged arm  _ changed. _

Muscles rippled and flesh bubbled. Skin burst open, splattering blood over the mad scientist’s immediate surroundings, only for the wounds to close instantly, sealed by charcoal-black skin. Neatly trimmed fingernails grew longer and sharper, rooted deeper into Ver’s digits, and when he reached up to grab the railing for support, the stone crumbled under his grip.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” screamed the eco-terrorist as Ver’s laughter continued.

Jonah heard little musical clatters and looked down to see five bloody bullets on the floor. Then, to his mounting horror, Ver got to his feet, clothes dyed red, but no longer bleeding.

“Hahh…” Ver’s insane cackling at last trailed off as he flexed his dark, heavily muscled arm, “It hurts, but it also feels… Ahh, I can’t even find the words! I should’ve done this weeks ago!”

“Done. What.” Jonah intoned, backing away.

Ver leered at him, smiling from ear to ear. “Oh, you’re still here? I didn’t notice. You’re a little blurry, Jonah ol’ pal.”

Ver reached up and removed his glasses, then crushed them in his black fist. The shattered glass failed to pierce his palm. 

The madman blinked. “Much better. Would you like to guess what was in that syringe,  _ Alan? _ ”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking,” replied Jonah, hands balled protectively into fists in front of himself.

“Like I said, I’m no barbarian like you are,” Ver said. “It’s simple, really. Why win with something archaic like a firearm, when I can win with the power of evolution itself?!”

“Get to the point!” the older man snarled.

Ver lifted his disproportionate, dark arm, and jabbed a clawed thumb at the kaiju furiously battling the Symphogear wielders just a couple kilometers away. “GODZILLA, you dumbfuck! He is evolution in the flesh! Within that syringe was a sample of  _ completely uncultured  _ G-Cells!”

“You’ve killed yourself, moron.”

“Eventually, sure,” Ver waved him off, and it was  _ so  _ disturbing to see those wicked claws waving around, “But the healing factor stopped your bullets from killing me right here. Wanna see?”

He lifted his shirt with his normal arm, and sure enough, the entry wounds were shut, sealed by the same dark skin-  _ scales-  _ that covered his arm.

Ver took a step toward Jonah, but then staggered, grasping at his shoulder. “Ahh, there it is. I don’t think my immune system agrees with Godzilla all that much.”

Jonah decided to take that opportunity to crack out with his fist again. If he could just knock the madman unconscious, escape would be a simple matter.

His knuckles made contact not with Ver’s face, but with his scaly palm.

The dark fingers closed, and the broad claws dug into the back of Jonah’s hand.

Jonah grunted, trying desperately to pull himself free as Ver’s grip tightened, the smile on the Doctor’s face widening with each passing moment.

“How did you put it, Alan?” Ver asked, teeth glinting in the underground light, “You said something about it not actually having been fun?”

Crick, crack. Jonah’s hand.

“Frankly, working with you wasn’t much fun for me either. But do you know what  _ will _ be fun?”

Jonah said nothing, defiant in spite of everything.

Ver didn’t let him ruin the mood. “This!”

And with the slightest flex of his mighty, mutated arm, Ver crushed Jonah’s hand into so much bloody pulp.

To the old terrorist’s credit, he didn’t scream. He sure wanted to, though.

Ver opened his red-coated hand to reveal the mess of flesh and bone that was once Jonah’s human hand. “Ooh, that looks like it hurts. I’d fix you right up, but… I’m afraid there are no more G-Cells.”

He flicked Jonah in the chest, and Jonah swore that that alone cracked his sternum. It hurt almost as much as his old back slamming into the watchtower railing.

Ver stalked toward him, completely ignoring the fiery pain that had consumed his body as it fough the invading genetic material. Then he stopped in his tracks, slapping himself with his still-human hand.

“Those  _ were _ all the G-Cells… can’t make more LiNKER for the girls... or medicine for Doc Nastassja. Damn shame, I liked her a lot more than you, old fart.”

Jonah, crippled though he was, was about to retort when a distinct sound caught his attention. Both his and Ver’s heads turned to the source, and found Godzilla tracking one of those girls. The titan’s dorsal spines pulsed rapidly, from black and white to blue and back again. Based on the girl’s path through the air, if Godzilla fired, then…

Ver scoffed and picked up his damaged laptop, before putting a foot up on the rail. He flipped Jonah the bird with one oversized scaly finger, then jumped. Jonah didn’t bother watching him fall. Instead he watched as Godzilla fired at the Symphogear wielder, his atomic breath carving a trail of mass destruction through the ancient city as the kaiju swept his head sideways.

As the beam grew nearer, close enough that he began to feel the nuclear heat, Jonah took one last look at Godzilla’s enraged face, then closed his eyes.

“This planet can go straight to hell,” he muttered.

A moment later, all that remained of him and the top of the watchtower was radioactive ashes.

_ Holy hell, old man Genjuro really wasn’t kiddin’. _

Godzilla’s ferocity seemed to keep reaching new heights the longer the fight went on. Every attack was aimed to kill, and while Chris was pretty sure she could take a punch or tail whip, she wasn’t keen on getting barbecued by atomic breath.

As such, the fight once again consisted of the wielders moving around a whole lot, because staying in one place too long would almost certainly spell their demise with how furiously Godzilla was coming after them. Their only advantage was that he had become little more than a mindless berserker, and by attacking from all sides, they could ensure that his attention shifted often, taking pressure off whoever his previous target had been.

But it was a losing battle. Constantly staying on the move wasn’t doing wonders for their stamina, and Kirika and Shirabe had the additional worry of their LiNKER running out to consider. Godzilla showed no signs of tiring, and rapidly healed what little damage the four of them managed to do.

It didn’t help that he was terrifying.

Even the megafauna Chris had battled before hadn’t seemed this wild and feral. This wasn’t an intelligent superspecies, this was an oversized animal lashing out in primal rage. His bellows grated at her ears as claws and tail and teeth lashed out in every direction where he perceived a foe.

“This isn’t going well, dess!” Kirika cried as she hooked her scythe around the point of a dorsal spine, using it to pivot and fling herself away from the nuclear titan.

“He’s far out of our league,” Tsubasa commented, “But this is all we can do for now. The commander informed us that Tachibana received a message from the Shobijin, so we must hold out until Mothra arrives!”

“That might be difficult,” grumbled Shirabe, flinging buzzsaws like there was no tomorrow, “Kiri-chan and I might not be able to fight much longer.”

Chris forcefully injected some courage into her voice. “That’s fine, kid. You two can fall back if you want. Senpai an’ I have been doing this stuff for a while, we can handle ourselves.”

“Are you sure?” Kirika asked. 

_ Not at all,  _ Chris thought, but her mouth said, “Positive. You two have too much of your lives ahead of you to get smushed here.”

“Thank you,” Shirabe said, stowing her weapons and setting her sights on the silvery Land Moguera. “C’mon, Kiri-chan, before we can’t use our Gears anymore.”

Kirika replied almost unnecessarily loudly, “Wait, look, Shirabe!”

“Look where?”

“Over by the tank!”

Shirabe squinted, and sure enough, there was someone sprinting away from the giant vehicle. They were moving impressively quickly considering they lacked a Symphogear, and Shirabe could just barely make out a head of light brown hair.

“Hibiki Tachibana?” Shirabe whispered. “What on Earth is she doing?”

Kirika suggested, “Why don’t we ask her, dess?” 

Shirabe wrestled with the idea. She wasn’t a fan of Hibiki, just by instinct. Talking to her now of all times didn’t seem like a good idea to her.

Nevertheless, she pushed the wheels out of Shul Shagana’s heels and began to roll Hibiki’s way. 

Kirika got there first, and had already struck up a conversation by the time Shirabe reached earshot. As far as how Hibiki was talking properly whilst she sprinted full-tilt, Shirabe had no clue.

“Weren’t you, like, dying a few minutes ago, dess? How are you running so well with Godzilla stomping around?”

“Our training room can simulate kaiju conditions!” Hibiki replied, eyes ever forward as she ran her newly-repaired heart out.

“My, how privileged of you.” Shirabe commented, falling in line on Hibiki’s other side.

“Shirabe-chan?” Hibiki gasped. “You came to see me?” 

“Don’t get excited,” she bit out in response, “I just wanted to know what your plan was, coming out here without a Gear on.”

Hibiki grinned “Mothra will be here in a minute.”

“We heard, dess.”

“But she can’t beat Godzilla alone. We’ll need all the Gears we can get!”

“Then, again,” Shirabe emphasized, “What are you doing here  _ without  _ one?”

Hibiki’s eyes blazed with determination, her hair backlit by an explosion against Godzilla’s hide. “I’m gonna go chat with Maria-san. If she’s not fighting yet, she must have some reason. I’m gonna convince her otherwise!”

Shirabe scoffed. “That’s rich.”

Hibiki glanced at her. “You think I’m a hypocrite, right?”

“That’s right,” Shirabe replied, not affording Hibiki eye contact as she instead kept track of Chris and Tsubasa’s ongoing fight with Godzilla. They were observably slowing down, and Godzilla’s missed attacks were coming closer and closer to connecting.

“I always saw wielding Gungnir as my way of doing some good in the world,” Hibiki said. “At first, that just meant protecting innocents, but as time went on, I realized something.”

“This probably isn’t the time for your whole tragic backstory, dess,” Kirika piped up, sounding nervous as she, too, guarded the currently fragile Hibiki from falling debris.

Hibiki ignored her. “My fists were strong, good for winning fights, but that wasn’t what they were  _ for. _ ”

“Am I supposed to ask what they’re actually for?” Shirabe asked dryly as she slashed apart a car-sized chunk of rubble that was sent flying in the direction of their little group.

“My fists are supposed to be opened, so I can offer my hand to people.”

“The mythical power of friendship, dess?” Kirika muttered.

“So maybe you’re right about me, Shirabe-chan,” Hibiki admitted, breathing quickly but evenly from exertion, “Maybe I am a hypocrite. But just know that I fight because there’s something I believe in. I believe that people can understand each other  _ without  _ fighting.”

“I guess that’s all any of us are really doing,” Shirabe admitted. “Following what we believe in. I don’t know if I can agree with how you wave your righteousness around while you punch things, but…”

Kirika glanced back and forth between the pair of them and Godzilla, who had actually succeeded in grazing Tsubasa with a single mighty claw.

Shirabe nodded. “I can understand you, Hibiki Tachibana. Go talk some sense into Maria for us.”

Hibiki blinked. “Wh-what are you two gonna do?”

Shirabe glared at the enraged titan. “Anything we can.”

With that, the Blades of Zababa left Hibiki to her running and went straight for the radioactive titan.

What they didn’t expect was for him to turn away from Tsubasa’s rain of energy blades and completely about-face in their direction as they got close.

“Oh no.”

“Scatter, you two!” Chris screamed.

Kirika and Shirabe split, but each found their paths blocked by immense dark hands. Neither of them could stop themselves from running face-first into the scaly obstacles, and they found themselves pinned by the wind pressure as Godzilla swung his arms.

Shirabe managed to turn herself over, and caught sight of the other hand approaching, Kirika flattened against it.

“Kiri-chan, look out!”

“This isn’t the kind of hug I’m gonna enjoy, dess!”

Godzilla clapped, slamming Kirika and Shirabe into each other between his palms with massive force. The two young girls began to fall, nearly incapacitated, and Godzilla’s back lit up blue as he glared down at them. Half-conscious, the girls could only listen to the chorus of deep thumps that heralded their coming demise.

Chris and Tsubasa both made mad, desperate dashes through the air, unwilling to accept their helplessness, even though they would never make it in time.

Godzilla did not smile. He took no joy in what he was about to do. All he saw with his pale eyes and clouded mind were nuisances to be destroyed, just parts of the whole that was his worst enemy: humanity. With them gone, he’d simply turn to eliminate the rest, continuing to weaponize his endless fury.

His lower jaw fell open, and atomic hellfire churned in his throat. Through eyes narrowed with pain, Kirika and Shirabe were afforded the privilege of getting to watch their impending death race toward them, the sheer heat blurring the air.

Then there was a sound, a blast of air louder than the crackling roar of the blue fire, and a figure appeared before them, silhouetted against the atomic breath, holding something round.

In a fraction of a second, the round object expanded, growing wide enough to shield all of them from the incoming atomic breath.

The object was a mirror.

Miku felt it in her bones when Godzilla’s attack struck the true form of Shénshòujìng’s Armed Gear, and she immediately realized that she’d probably bought the girls a few seconds at best. She was too inexperienced, too incompatible without the feedback system to guide her.

Then, just as the first cracks showed in the back of the mirror, Miku felt the load lessen and blinked as she noticed some of Chris’s reflectors floating around. She looked down just in time to watch Tsubasa snatch up the kids’ falling forms and carry them away from the beam.

“The hell are you doing?!” Chris cried as she slipped behind the mirror, her face a curious mix of happy and worried. “You would’ve definitely died if I hadn’t been close!”

“If  _ I _ hadn’t gotten here,” Miku gasped, trying to hold back the blood rising in her throat, “Those two would’ve died instead.”

Chris chuckled in spite of the situation as she supported Miku. “Jeez, just cuz you have a Gear for the moment doesn’t mean you should go around copying that idiot!

Without warning, the mirror, as well as Chris’s reflectors, gave out under the atomic assault. By some stroke of providence, however, that was right when Godzilla ceased firing the heat ray. Regardless, the shattering of Shénshòujìng’s Armed Gear knocked Miku right out of her armor back into normal clothes. Chris twisted in the air to take hold of her, and made certain to orient herself to take the brunt of the impact when they slammed into the earth.

Chris groaned, gently depositing Miku on the warm stone as the latter wiped a trail of blood from her face; the consequence of the Symphogear’s strain. Nearby, Tsubasa gritted her teeth as she got to her feet, standing protectively over the weakened forms of Kirika and Shirabe. Chris moved to stand too, but nearly lost her footing as the ground trembled.

A hundred meters above, Godzilla loomed over them like a shadowy monolith, his face twisted in distaste, distorted with hate for them and their entire species. He took a step closer, then another, each footfall nearly knocking Tsubasa and Chris off their feet.

In the back of her mind, Chris knew that they were beaten. She and Tsubasa were exhausted, Miku was dead weight, and Kirika and Shirabe were borderline incapacitated.

_ This is as far as I go, huh?  _ Chris thought,  _ Well, I’m sure as hell not going quietly. _

Tsubasa silently held her sword in front of her, ready for whatever might come. She had lived as an unflappable guardian, and she’d die as such.

Godzilla snorted and took another step, turning his body. The titanic tail swept over the ground toward them, an unstoppable bulldozer of scales and bony osteoderms. 

Then Chris saw it. Saw Her.

Watched Mothra herself slip through the entrance to the cavern as fast as sound, spread her mighty multicolored wings, and spit a thick cord of silk from her mouth.

The sticky webbing caught Godzilla’s tail, and Mothra wasted no time yanking on it with all her vast strength, halting the kaiju’s would-be death blow in its tracks.

Godzilla looked over his shoulder, his glazed-over eyes widening at the other daikaiju’s arrival. His cavernous jaws opened once more and let out that impossibly loud, mournful bellow, but unlike before, this time there was a proper response. 

Mothra angled herself at the nuclear titan, building speed as she approached. 

When she crashed into Godzilla with an earsplitting, chittering war cry, the shockwave shook the entire cavern.

Maria almost fell over as the titans began to brawl.

“So she’s here to die too,” she whispered to herself.

“You don’t think she can defeat him?” Nastassja remarked, “She’s not called the strongest kaiju on the planet for no reason.”

“Is she?” Maria challenged, shoulders sagging, “Are we certain that title hasn’t passed to him?”

Nastassja hummed. “I suppose we are not.”

“Look at how easily he dispatched those four. One hit was all it took, so how many can Mothra handle?”

“I would assume quite a few,” Nastassja said. “At any rate, do you plan to simply stand here and do nothing?”

Maria set her jaw. “Fighting him is suicide. When I see an opening, I’ll get Kirika and Shirabe, and we’ll escape this place.”

“You’re giving up?”

“Do you not understand that this is all my fault, Mom?” Maria cried, rounding on the older woman. “My failures are why Jonah and Dr. Ver went this far!”

“Your failures?” called a younger voice, and Maria turned again.

There on the roof stood Hibiki Tachibana, bent at the waist to catch her breath.

“How’d you get up here?” Nastassja asked, sounding almost amused.

“That’s… phew… not important!” Hibiki replied, standing tall to point at Maria. “As I was saying! What about your failures?”

Maria frowned. “If I were a proper reincarnation of Fin é, I could have filled my role. I could have accomplished our goal, and there never would have been a need to turn Godzilla into a killing machine.”

“That’s not something you could control, Maria-san,” Hibiki responded, taking a step closer. “It’s pointless to get upset over that!”

“But even then,” Maria ground out, “I sabotaged Mom and Jonah and the Doctor’s efforts to pick up my slack. I evacuated civilians, fought the kaiju that were supposed to rampage freely…”

“You call those failures?” challenged Hibiki, “Wouldn’t those be successes?”

Maria blinked, struck silent. Then, at length, she found her voice again, raising it to be heard over the echoing impacts of Godzilla and Mothra’s blows. “What?”

“Tsubasa-san told me. About your time together in Paris. About what you’re really like.”

“What’d she tell you, human-relic fusion?”

“Okay, enough of THAT!” Hibiki shouted. “My name is Hibiki Tachibana, age seventeen! My favorite things are rice and more rice!”

“How is that at all relevant?”

Hibiki’s answer, “Now you know a bit about me, too!”

Maria spoke slowly. “You’re… confusing.”

“It’s fine if you don’t understand me as a person,” said Hibiki, “We can fix that later. But you need to understand what I’m about to say.”

“I’m listening, for the moment.”

Hibiki took a deep breath and began to walk towards Maria.

“You brought up filling a role, but I think that role was forced on you. You never wanted to play the villain, even for a better future.”

“You can think whatever you like,” Maria said, listening, but also watching the kaiju fight.

“I think she,” Hibiki continued, with a pointed glance at Nastassja, “And those other two made you into something you aren’t. But you resisted. You couldn’t just stop being you.”

Maria huffed.

“I think you’re a kind, caring person who’s lost her way.”

“You know nothing,” Maria hissed, beginning to back away.

“They need your help. Stop pretending like you’re still carrying some… some mantle of evil or whatever!”  
“You have no idea what I’ve done!” yelled Maria.

“It doesn’t matter what you’ve done!” came Hibiki’s equally passionate cry, “What matters is what you can do, here and now!”

“THERE’S NOTHING ANY OF US CAN DO, YOU NAIVE GIRL!” Maria roared. “All that’s left is to run and hide, and wait for Godzilla to hunt us down!”

“How do you know if you refuse to try, huh?”

“Use your brain! How am I going to make any difference now?!”

Hibiki was just a couple of meters away now. “I’ve never been much for thinking. I prefer to follow my heart, and the song within it.” 

Maria stopped backing up, choosing instead to hold her ground. “And where does that get you?”

“Hasn’t steered me wrong yet,” replied Hibiki with a smile, “And that’s why I think you should listen to yours too. Do what it’s telling you to do!”

“Say I do,” responded Maria, “Say I run in there, and get myself killed fighting the most dangerous daikaiju on the planet. What then?”

“If you think that’s what’ll happen, then it will,” Hibiki said. “Don’t give up on living like that!”

Maria blinked. She considered Godzilla and Mothra, going to town on each other in a bloody deathmatch. Considered the glittering pendant hanging from her neck. Considered this short young woman in front of her.

She considered why she had gotten herself mixed up in all of this: because she had hoped that her songs, her power, could save humanity.

Wouldn’t it be the height of hypocrisy not to sing her heart out here, at the crucial moment?

“I truly do not understand you,” Maria relented at last. “But at the same time… I think I see your point, Hibiki Tachibana.”

“Then you’ll fight?”

Maria wordlessly took Gungnir’s pendant off. She dropped it into her palm and held the crimson crystal out to Hibiki.

“Here.”

Hibiki reached out, almost as if to take it, but then simply clasped her hand around Maria’s.

“What are you doing?”

“You keep it. I only ever had Gungnir by accident.”

Maria rolled her eyes. “We need all the help we can get, correct? Then you should take it.”

“Did you not hear my whole motivational speech just now, Maria-san?”

Maria giggled. “I certainly did, Hibiki Tachibana. And I do plan to fight with you.”

And then, with her free hand, she produced a second pendant. A cracked and pitted one in a duller shade of red, but a pendant all the same.

“Unless you want this one?”

“Uh, no… that’s okay,” Hibiki replied, sounding a little embarrassed.

“Frankly, I don’t think I was ever supposed to wield Gungnir,” Maria admitted. “It was for Kanade Amou. And then you.”

Hibiki nodded, accepting the pendant. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.”

The two of them turned to look at Godzilla and Mothra together, taking in the utter scale and magnitude of the battle they were about to join, for better or for worse.

“Say,” Maria began, “You mentioned a song in your heart. What sort of song is it?”

Hibiki lifted the pendant. “ _ Balwisyall nescell Gungnir tron…” _

A flash of golden light, and Hibiki was once again cloaked in the Symphogear she knew so well, but this time without the burning pain. It was the exact same suit of armor she was used to, somehow.

“In the end, they were made from the same spearhead. Gungnir is Gungnir,” Maria said, looking at the armor she had worn in dark tones not so long ago, “And it’s answered your call, your song, the same way.  _ Seilen coffin Airgetlám tron…” _

The pendant in Maria’s hand crackled, protested, in its state of disrepair. But in the end the Symphogear relented, and Maria was clad in a set of armor that shone silver. Her left arm sported noticeably heavier armor than her right, in a sturdy gauntlet. Maria inspected the armor, clenching her fist. “Thanks, Serena.”

Hibiki smiled. “Glad to have you, Maria-san. And, since you asked...”

She pounded her fist into the palm of her other hand, preparing for the greatest fight of her life so far.

“My song, my Symphogear, my life… it’s the Striking Spear, Gungnir.”

**CHAPTER XVIII: A Small, Sunny Spot**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the length of this one kind of got out of hand. Sorry if you're not a fan of walls of text, but I figure the penultimate chapter of this "arc" deserves a whole lotta words. This is also where you'll see me start to deviate from Symphogear canon in a big way: namely, Shénshòujìng wasn't destroyed.  
> Thanks for your continued readership, it means the world to me. Comments too, they're always fun to read. Stay safe and healthy out there.  
> I'm VERY much looking forward to writing 19, so expect a sizable wait for that one too, even if it doesn't get as long as this.  
> 9/21/20: cleaned up the character tags a bit.


	19. CHAPTER XIX: Make History With A Light Godzilla Could Not Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only real insert song in this chapter is "Hajimari No Babel", but Symphogear veterans probably know to play Vitalization at a certain point too.

_ “Thanks… for staying alive.” _

**-Kanade Amou to Hibiki Tachibana just before the former’s death, 2017.**

  
  


**^~The New Age of Monsters~^**

  
  


Mothra hadn’t fought this hard in ten thousand years. The last time she’d been in a battle like this, where she truly felt she might die if she slipped up, had been The Enemy’s most recent visit. The fervor with which the Fallen Star had fought on that day had taken her off guard, and nearly cost her her life at the time. Only the intervention of the humans, with the power of the first Relic, had won the day for Mother Earth. It had been a simpler time.

Now here she was, fighting for her life against the being she considered her closest friend.

Here she was, wondering what on Earth could have possibly happened to put him in this state for a second time. 

It was like he didn’t know her, as if he saw her as just another foe to overcome, an obstacle to surmount. He fought with reckless abandon, uncaring for the painful slashes her claws ripped through his scales, barely slowed by the battering of her mighty wings. 

Her old Shobijin- the ones that had been kidnapped decades ago- had learned of Godzilla’s 1954 rampage and relayed that information to her. She had been shocked and hurt at the time, but not as much as now. The humans’ description of his behavior then was a match to how he was acting.

Except unlike 1954, he was whole. He wasn’t a malformed, barely-walking tumor who gushed boiling blood. He was a lean, musclebound predator, with strength and speed to match his unrelenting anger.

She spent every second of their fight trying to get into his head. But every time, she found her efforts rebuffed, reflected. All she got were further echoes of emotion, some so overpowering that she flinched, giving Godzilla an opening.

His fist was a hammer blow on her carapace, and while the spiderweb of cracks that it left was healed in seconds, the pain lingered. She retaliated by swiping at one of those unsettling, pale eyes. Healing those took longer than most other organs, which she and Godzilla both knew from experience. As she expected, he ducked sideways to avoid her claws, giving her the opportunity to retreat with a single mighty wingbeat, scattering scales as she went. The glittering particles snapped against Godzilla’s scales, inflicting stinging pain.

Like everything else, he ignored the pain. 

Black-and-white dorsal spines flashed to blue, and a stream of atomic fire poured from his jaw. Mothra dropped beneath the heat ray and accelerated to ram her head into Godzilla’s midsection, abruptly cutting off the atomic breath and sending the titan stumbling backwards as he fought to put air back in his lungs. Even as she sank her claws into his face and pulled with all her strength, Mothra received a telepathic update from her priestesses; the Symphogear wielders were recovering. They’d be back in fighting shape shortly, with the exception of the wielder of the Mirror.

If Mothra had eyelids, she’d have blinked. The Mirror.

That explained it.

She couldn’t help the irritation that rose within her own mind at that revelation. That relic had been designed to prevent misuse of the other ones, and yet, even it was unsafe from having its function perverted. Again the actions of a few foolish humans put the rest at risk.

Godzilla groaned in protest as she pulled on him, dragging him away from the wielders and priestesses by his skull. His arms, long enough to reach his head ever since his regeneration, clawed at her own hands, forcing her to release her grip or risk losing the limbs. 

But, as she tried to flap out of reach, Godzilla lunged, and his jaws closed around a forelimb. It wasn’t long before the chitin splintered under his bite force, and Mothra was, for the moment, down a weapon. Godzilla spat the severed limb out and roared at her, furious as ever.

Mothra didn’t waver. She never had.

Instead she scattered more scales in front of herself as Godzilla’s back thumped. Seemingly remembering their short bout in Tokyo, the glow of his spines dimmed, wary of having his heat ray sent back at him.

So Mothra spread her wings and let herself glow, bioluminescence lighting even the darkest corners of the giant cavern.

The high-energy light was refracted, channeled by the floating cloud of scales, focused into a single point.

When it released, a tiny fraction of a second later, it was as a bolt of power that slammed into Godzilla’s shoulder so hard that even in his berserk state, the daikaiju was taken aback. The scales had been completely blasted away, exposing charred flesh to the dry underground air. 

But it was already healing. So was Mothra’s forelimb.

It would be hours before either of them exhausted their regenerative powers, but there was also the small detail that Mothra was explicitly  _ not  _ trying to kill her old friend. She also knew that he wasn’t extending her the same kindness, meaning her already less-potent healing was likely to reach its limit before his.

She had to hold out until the Wielders were ready. Only with their help would she be able to end this fight without killing Godzilla.

Of course, that didn’t mean she couldn’t try a little harder while she waited.

_ Cover your eyes,  _ she warned the Shobijin, who passed the message on.

Then she turned her glow up to its maximum, and for just a moment, the Sun shone in the cavern.

Godzilla screamed and clawed at his eyes, momentarily blinded by the light. Mothra realized a bit too late that such an attack was rather insensitive, considering what had prompted this berserker rage in the first place.

Even so, she took advantage of the leviathan’s momentary sensory imbalance and flew over him to his back, then pivoted in the air as she descended to grip his thick tail with her five remaining legs.

Her wings beat furiously as she began to drag Godzilla away, toward the wall of the cavern. He screamed and fought it, digging into the earth with broad toe-claws, but he couldn’t shake the Divine Moth off his tail.

A hundred meters below, a little group of little humans watched in awe.

“Jeez, they’re really goin’ to town,” Chris remarked.

“I had no idea Mothra was  _ that  _ strong, dess,” Kirika remarked.

The Shobijin responded in unison as Miana smeared glittering scales onto the Igalima wielder’s arm. “She has not had cause to use her full power in your recorded history.”

Kirika made a contemplative noise, then looked down at her skin as the bruises faded away in mere moments. “Hey, what  _ is  _ this stuff?”

Maina responded by lifting her own forearm, turning it so her skin caught the underground light. Her pale Houtua markings, standing out from the more dark, human skin, glittered in the same way.

Kirika made a sour face.

“Don’t look like that, Kiri-chan,” Shirabe commented as she watched a slice on her hand close up, “At least they’re scales from people.”

“That makes it weirder, dess!”

Chris lightly chopped the top of Kirika’s blond head. “Don’t be ungrateful. It’s thanks to these two that we’ll be in fighting shape again in a moment.”

Tsubasa, sitting cross-legged nearby, joined the conversation. “Even so, how much help could we possibly offer?”

Miana and Maina looked at each other, before once again addressing the four wielders in unison. “You’re aware of the safety restrictions upon your Symphogears, are you not?”

“Mhm,” Tsubasa nodded.

“Then you are aware of how much power you would command, should those safeties be disengaged?”

“Hold on,” said Chris, “If you’re talking about X-Drive, we’ve done it. It was a nice boost an’ all, but I don’t think it’d put us on par with Big G.”

“X-what?” Kirika wondered.

Maina’s usual frown deepened, and she walked quickly over to Chris, then rested the back of one hand on her forehead. Chris went completely stiff at the contact, even moreso when she felt the Houtua priestess rooting around in her mind.

When she stepped away, there was a curious mix of disappointment and amusement in her green eyes. Her hairlike antennae twitched. “I see. You are under the impression that the form you achieved on that day was the fully unlocked Symphogear.”

Tsubasa got to her feet, gaze flickering between the Shobijin and the now more distant kaiju fight. “You mean to tell me that  _ wasn’t  _ X-Drive?”

The twins nodded, speaking at the same time once more. “Correct. While it was a great increase from your power cap at the time, you did not possess nearly enough… what is it you call it, phonic gain?”

“I’m completely lost, dess,” Kirika whispered into Shirabe’s ear. The latter promptly turned her head and pecked Kirika’s cheek, turning her into a red-faced mess for the moment.

“That’s right. So, how much phonic gain d’we need to get the real X-Drive out?” Chris asked.

Miana tapped her bottom lip and hummed, and that action alone prompted a tiny spark of power within Ichaival that Chris could feel. “Quite a bit. Ever since music and song was relegated to mere entertainment by human civilization, your kind’s aptitude for producing the power has decreased.”

“However,” Maina added, still serious, “If all of you harmonize with the Goddess, the amount should be more than sufficient to release all the safeties.”

“W-w-what are we waiting for, then, dess?” Kirika asked, having managed to recover from the heart attack caused by Shirabe’s affection.  
The Shobijin spoke again as one, “For one, Gojira is unlikely to afford us time to complete the song. For another, we meant _all_ of you.”

“Even me?” Miku spoke up, speaking for the first time.

“No way in hell,” Chris replied quickly. “You’re all messed up inside from  Shénshòujìng’s recoil, in a way they can’t heal quickly.”

“We were referring to Hibiki Tachibana and Maria Cadenzavna Eve, yes. You, Miku Kohinata, are not experienced, healthy, or compatible enough with your relic to take part.”

“I understand,” Miku whispered, already weary from the effort of raising her voice over the sound of Godzilla and Mothra’s fight.

“Where are those two, then? Also, was Tachibana’s Gungnir not destroyed?” Tsubasa asked, sitting back down.

“They are close, and yes, the fragments within her were erased. As such, it is fortuitous that Miss Eve possesses multiple Symphogears.” Miana and Maina replied. “The issue will be whether we can find an opening to harmonize.”

“That’s up to the big bug, ain’t it?” Chris frowned, hands on her hips as she watched the two daikaiju brawl. Mothra had perched on the nuclear titan’s dorsal spines, and though they burned hot with unreleased atomic fire, her grip never loosened as he used her weight to throw off Godzilla’s balance.

The Shobijin frowned, with Maina’s antennae in particular twitching in annoyance. “We’d prefer you to treat the Goddess with a bit more respect, at least in our presence.”

“Please, don’t mind Yukine,” Tsubasa said. “She’s just like that.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean, senpai?”

“She’s calling you abrasive,” offered Shirabe, helpfully.

Chris was about to retort when that familiar blue shine caught her eye. Godzilla, seemingly having noticed them, decided he’d found an outlet for the firestorm within that he’d been trying, to no avail, to burn Mothra with. For all his world-shattering fury and power, he just couldn’t reach his back.

So he opened his jaws wide and took aim at the tiny, musical humans. That got a reaction from the pest on his spines, who launched herself into the path of the beam and scattered her scales to absorb the blast. Even as he finished firing, Godzilla was on her, reaching out to take hold of her wing with deadly claws.

They sank into the wing membrane with little resistance, drawing a painful trill from the Divine Moth as she braced her limbs on his chest to try and shove him away.

“Oh, no,” Shirabe whispered.

“Where’s that idiot?” Chris growled.

She got her answer right away, but not in the manner that she was expecting.

A blur of warm color tore through the air and slammed directly into the back of Godzilla’s hand, causing him to reflexively release Mothra’s great multicolored wing.

Several jaws dropped.

“You have  _ got  _ to be kidding me.”

Hibiki poured more thrust into her hip jets, pushing her clenched hand deeper into Godzilla’s flesh as the piston on her gauntlet extended well past her shoulder. The blood welling around her fist would have bothered her against pretty much any other opponent, but she knew from experience that she would be leaving a wound that was superficial at best.

The piston slammed back into place, sending a second mighty impact into Godzilla’s hand. That horrible, echoing bellow rang out from his throat as the recoil sent Hibiki flying up and away. He tried to lunge for her and catch her between his teeth, but the Gungnir girl was simply moving too fast. Even as she rocketed out of range of any non-atomic attack, the hole in Godzilla’s hand stopped bleeding.

“The hell is she doing?!” Chris squawked, eyes wide. Even the generally unflappable Shobijin looked taken aback.

“She split off from me as soon as she noticed Mothra in a tight spot,” said a familiar voice, and all present turned to find Maria standing tall behind them, cloaked in a silvery Symphogear none of them had ever seen before.

“Maria,” Tsubasa began, getting to her feet once again, “Is that...?”

Maria smiled. “I told you of my sister. This… was her Symphogear. Damaged though it was by the half-formed Hedorah, it still answered my song.”

“Which one is it?” Shirabe asked.

“They call it  Airgetlám, after an Irish myth,” Maria supplied. 

“So you bear the Silver Arm,” the Shobijin intoned. “You would do well not to misuse it, as you did the Fierce Spear.”

“Those markings… you’re the Shobijin?”

“Correct.” the twins’ cold reply.

Considerably warmer words were offered to Maria by Kirika and Shirabe, who both flew at her to give her a tight hug.

“I’m sorry for taking so long, you two.” Maria said, the barest hint of a smile on her face.

“You’re here now,” replied Shirabe, “That improves our chances a whole lot.”

“Where’s Mom, dess?”

Maria sighed at that. “She surrendered to S.O.N.G. Tsubasa’s friend Ogawa took her back to their vehicle.”

“Good ol’ Ogawa,” Chris commented, “Never know if he’s helping us until after he’s already finished his job.”

Then all of them jumped as Hibiki slammed into the ground a few meters away. In the distance, Godzilla turned to face Mothra once more, having just completed a mighty tail whip that had sent Hibiki flying.

“Tachibana?!”

“Ow,” Hibiki groaned, climbing out of a depression roughly shaped like her spread-eagled body. “Yeah, he’s really not pulling his punches.”

Chris was the first to reach her, taking her friend by the shoulder. “You feelin’ okay, you dumbass? Not burnin’ up anymore?”

Hibiki smiled. “Nope! In fact, Gungnir feels better than it ever has!”

“That is due to the previous nature of your Symphogear,” offered the Shobijin, “Being a mere fragment, fusion was the only way for it to access greater reserves of power. You now wield Gungnir properly… with all the compatibility you had before.”

“So you’re saying I’m as strong as before without the whole… relic cancer thing?” Hibiki asked for confirmation.

“Indeed. And now that you are here…”

As the Shobijin began to explain the plan, Mothra placed herself between the group and Godzilla once again, her great wings beating slowly to let her hover. Godzilla was practically foaming at the mouth, eager to rip her apart but far too experienced to risk charging her recklessly.

If she turned her back, she’d surely feel the sting of his fangs or fire. Even so, she had to create an opening somehow. 

She spread her wings wide, letting her bioluminesence exaggerate the bright colors. It was a threat display, tried-and-true against kaiju that refused to listen to reason.

It tended to fail against those who were beyond fear, however.

All of the most effective threat displays crafted by Nature used a bright glow of some kind, and Godzilla’s kind was no exception. He straightened to his full, impressive height, chest puffed out, and roared that awful, deafening scream at her as his dorsal spines pulsed rhythmically.

Mothra was about to open her mouth to retort when two new cries answered Godzilla before she had the chance. They were cries that she hadn’t heard in a long time, and certainly hadn’t expected here of all places. 

The earth shook as a colossal brown blur of spikes rolled through the cavern entrance, closing the distance to Godzilla incredibly quickly and slamming into his midsection. The leviathan screamed as he nearly lost his footing, while the kaiju-sized ball uncurled to reveal none other than-

“Anguirus?!” Genjuro cried in shock from within the distant Land Moguera.

“I thought that he was killed in 1955!” Tsubasa cried. “What’s more, he’s immense-”

“This must be a different individual!” concluded Maria, even as the source of the second call made himself known at twice the speed of sound.

Rodan left a trail of embers as he tilted perpendicular to the ground in order to fit his colossal wings through the entrance. He crowed again as he made a wide turn, flying high enough not to damage the city with his wingbeats any more than Godzilla already had.

Anguirus wailed at Godzilla, stamping his sturdy legs as his friend quickly recovered from the rolling attack. Godzilla’s pale eyes narrowed for a second, perhaps in recognition, but any illusions Anguirus might have harbored about talking his friend down were burned away by the atomic breath that burst from the titan’s jaw.

Anguirus’s carapace easily absorbed the force of the attack, but even his sturdy back wouldn’t hold out forever under the close-range heat. As such Rodan flew in and slammed Godzilla’s jaws shut with his feet, abruptly cutting off the stream of atomic flame. Godzilla screamed in his throat, pale eyes widening in fury as he reached up to pry Rodan’s talons off his face. This gave Anguirus an opening, however, and the hyper-evolved ankylosaur wasted no time headbutting Godzilla in the thigh, driving his nose horn through the black scales and tough flesh beneath.

Mighty though Godzilla was, his two friends combined weighed a whole lot more than him, and he could no longer stay on his feet. He managed to snap Rodan’s ankle as he went down, however, as well as kick Anguirus in the face. Both kaiju backed off with cries of pain as their wounds began to heal.

Mothra, however, finally saw her opportunity.

She opened her mandibles and called upon her silk. The hypertensile substance stuck Godzilla’s hands and feet to the ground first, but then she began to spray it all the way up his limbs to his torso, aiming to gradually build a cocoon to hold him in place.

He screamed and began to push against his bindings, but with his limbs stuck fast, more strands of Mothra’s silk were being added than he could break at once. She stuck his tail down next as she began to completely restrain the titan.

The prison certainly wouldn’t hold him long, but it didn’t need to. She just needed a couple of minutes.

Godzilla fired his atomic breath at her while his head was still free, but that didn’t stop Mothra. She desperately flapped to keep ahead of the beam as she continued laying on the silk. Her reprieve finally came when Rodan brought his good foot down on Godzilla’s face. The leviathan responded by slamming his jaws shut around the offending limb, but Rodan knew what had to be done and bore the pain as best he could.

Anguirus, meanwhile, was still howling, trying desperately to get through the fog in his friend’s mind.

“Can they… really do it?” Miku mumbled to Hibiki, who had taken a knee beside her to watch.

“They have to,” Hibiki replied. “They must know what’s at stake too.”

_ Prepare yourselves,  _ the voices of the Shobijin rang out in their minds,  _ When the Goddess finishes, we will have to be quick. Before he breaks out, the song must complete. _

Kirika raised her hand. “Uh… what should we sing, dess?”

“It matters not,” replied Miana and Maina, verbally this time. “All that you require is harmony.”

“I’ll share the song in my heart with all of you,” Hibiki offered, “Maybe holding hands will help too!”

“Your handholding skills have saved the world before,” admitted Chris, taking her favorite numbskull’s proffered hand in her own, before offering her remaining one to Tsubasa. The guardian wasted no time clasping it.

Hibiki lifted her free hand. “Maria-san?”

Maria took a step forward, but then a frown overtook her face.

“What’s wrong, Maria?”

“We don’t have all day, y’know,” Chris drawled.

Maria sighed. “It’s nothing. I’m just... taken aback, I suppose.” 

“About?” Hibiki asked, tilting her head.

“You’re truly willing to offer your hand to someone like me... after all that I’ve done?”

“That’s Tachibana for you,” said Tsubasa. “She did that for me as well… even after I was cruel to her.”

Chris nodded. “Can confirm. She never stopped tryin’ to make friends with me, even while I was still shootin’ at her.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hibiki stated, with that warm smile of hers. 

Maria returned it and, at last, took Hibiki’s hand. She then found her other one taken by Shirabe, who offered her remaining hand to Kirika. The blond girl was all too eager to grab it.

All six of them stood, hand in hand, as Mothra at last finished cocooning Godzilla’s head.

“Move away from here a bit,” suggested the Shobijin. “Miku Kohinata is still too weak to move. We shall guard her.”

The Wielders complied, and began to walk in Godzilla’s direction. A massive shadow passed over them as Mothra landed gently behind the twins, spreading her glowing wings wide. Rodan and Anguirus, nursing their fast-healing wounds, looked on expectantly.

“Hibiki-san.” 

Hibiki looked around Maria to find Shirabe.

“You want to save Godzilla, don’t you?”

Hibiki nodded. “That’s right.”

Shirabe offered her the tiniest of smiles. “Show me what that means. This is your chance to prove my judgement of you wrong.”

Hibiki grinned.

_ The rest of you, Symphogears on, now! _

Four Holy Chants echoed, and a moment later, Chris, Tsubasa, Kirika, and Shirabe wore their Gears as well.

“Can you all feel my song?” Hibiki asked.

“Loud and clear, dess!”

Hibiki breathed in and out. “Here we go, Mothra.”

_ She’s ready. Sing your hearts out, Valkyries. _

Godzilla, meanwhile, continued to thrash madly in his bindings. Every strand of thick silk that snapped did so with an audible sound. His prison was deteriorating by the second. Rodan and Anguirus eyed his struggling form fiercely, ready to attack in the event of his escape. 

Mothra’s silken prisons had trapped kaiju for centuries before. It was her preferred method of punishment for petty squabbles, and many a powerful kaiju had suffered it in the past.

Godzilla would be free in a minute or less. 

Indeed, the immense reptile burned away the silk at his mouth simply by firing his atomic breath, leaving his furious bellows unmuffled.

But even his screams were drowned out by what rang out from the collection of Symphogear wielders.

The shared song of their hearts began, played by all six of their Gears, even as the Shobijin each lifted one of their arms and sang a song of their own, a hymn to the living Goddess standing over them, whose multicolored wing patterns pulsed in time with the music of the Wielders.

As they always did, the lyrics came from their hearts, and as such, it was Hibiki who began with her resounding tones.

_ Takusu tamashī yo... tsunagu tamashī yo _

Only a single line into their song, a veritable storm of phonic power swirled around the group. They were generating it, but Mothra was amplifying it to incredible heights.

Godzilla thrashed in his bindings with renewed fervor, spewing blue flame from his jaws.

Next to offer words was Tsubasa.

_ Ten wo habataku hikari _

Rodan and Anguirus, despite their concern at Godzilla’s imminent escape, could not help being taken aback at the song echoing through the cavern- through the very Earth. The raw power in it reminded them of the last time they had seen Mothra fight seriously. This was equal, if not greater, to what they had heard that day. The fact that humans could achieve such a thing stirred hope in both monsters’ chests.

Chris was third to break into song, a confident smile on her features.

_ Yumi ni tsugaeyō _

The coronas of phonic energy around the three of them coalesced, changing color to match that of their Symphogears as they cloaked their forms like an aura. The three young women shared a warm glance, and then sang all together, voices swelling in triple harmony.

_ Nan'oku no ai wo kasane _

Godzilla’s arm tore free of the cocoon, and immediately went to work with his claws shredding what he could reach from the outside.

_ Warera wa toki wo kasanete _

Gold, blue, and red light. Loose stones rose from the ground, held aloft by the sheer density of the phonic gain around Hibiki, Chris, and Tsubasa. With every musical note, every syllable of song, the power grew more and more. It was more than any of them had ever felt.

_ Gensho no kodō no uta e to _

Beneath his furious rage, Godzilla felt a sense of urgency. Whatever was going on over there had to be stopped. He himself didn’t stop to ponder a reason why, he just knew. So even as he continued to tear off the webbing holding him down, he let the infernal heat suffuse his back spines.

_ Warerai wa ima kaeru _

Rodan and Anguirus moved as one. The flying Fire Demon seized Godzilla’s free arm in his beak, furiously flapping his titanic wings to keep the limb from descending to claw at the cocoon again. Anguirus, on the other hand, opened his jaws wide and bit down on Godzilla’s head, holding the radioactive monster’s mouth closed with his own immense bite force to prevent the atomic breath’s release. 

Hibiki turned to Maria and gave her a single encouraging nod. It was their turn, so Maria led them, letting her deep voice add to the power cloaking them.

_ Tsumugu tamashī yo... ude ni tsutsumarete _

All at once, Godzilla’s tail tore free of its silken prison, swinging at high velocity to strike Rodan like a whip. The supersized pterosaur toughed it out, but there was no telling how much more he could take.

Kirika sang next.

_ Taiyō no yō ni tsuyoku _

The thumping of Godzilla’s spines grew louder and faster, reaching a fever pitch of its own as the nuclear flames roiled within the titan’s body. The blue light began to shine through his eyes, from between his very scales. The entire cocoon took on an azure tint as the flames spread through Godzilla’s entire body.

Shirabe was last to lend her high voice to the group’s powerful song.

_ Tsuki no yō ni yasashiku _

Silver, green, and pink. Now six colors swirled in the storm. Smoke rose from Godzilla’s prison as his rising body heat began to burn away the silk from within.

The three newest Symphogear wielders, once enemies, now lent their own triple harmony as allies. Three voices, so different, combined to generate power beyond imagination.

_ Wakitatsu mirai… _

The music slowed, and so did the trio’s voices. Mothra’s glowing patterns hummed with soft colors, in time with their words, as her antennae waved. The Shobijin at her feet continued to offer their song of prayer to the Goddess, boosting the musical power of her union with the Gears still further. 

_ Monogatari wa owari e _

These three had abused the power of song that Mothra had bestowed upon humanity so many millennia ago. Inwardly, it stung the daikaiju slightly that their help was required here.

But they were not helping with any sort of reluctance. She could feel it through their words. Their song was sincere, and as such it was strong. Perhaps there was hope for them yet.

_ Soshite mata saku no darō _

The arm in Rodan’s beak was glowing blue. The heat, he could handle. Heat was his nature. But the color worried him. He had never seen Godzilla do anything quite like this, and the continued thumping of his dorsal spines worried the King of the Skies. Even so, he held fast, enduring the continued strikes from the tip of his old friend’s tail.

_ Kiseki wa yagate rekishi e to _

Then, all at once, the fire released, not from Godzilla’s closed mouth, not from his pulsing spines, but from every inch of his body. It was a blue shockwave of pure energy that slammed into Anguirus and Rodan with incredible force and utterly disintegrated the silk trapping Godzilla. The enraged titan wasted no time getting to his feet and starting on the immobilized wielders with stomping strides.

_ Hokori kirameku darō _

Rodan and Anguirus, smoking and wounded though they were by the nuclear pulse, barred Godzilla’s path once again, stopping him in his tracks with their combined efforts. Godzilla bellowed in desperate fury and launched a stream of atomic fire at the multicolored storm of power around the six Symphogear Wielders.

He was too late.

The phonic gain was too dense now for his atomic breath to pierce it. Within the storm, the girls watched, transfixed by their Gears as the armor and bodysuits began to change shape and color. Moreso than that, they felt the awe-inspiring power surrounding them begin to take root within their own bodies.

“How can this be?” Maria breathed. “What kind of miracle…”

“We could never have done this alone!” Hibiki cried, unable to keep the joy from her voice. “This isn’t just six harmonized Superb Songs… it’s the lost harmony between people and kaiju!”

Though their hands separated, all six girls sang as one as they leapt from the ground in earth-shattering blazes of color, carried on the same wings they had always had, now at last made visible by their sheer power.

_ Nan'oku no ai wo kasane _

The wings of Mothra burned at all of their backs, sprouting from various parts of their armor, and formed of the same glowing phonic power that now permeated every fiber of their beings. 

_ These  _ were the Symphogears’ true forms.  _ This  _ was X-Drive, gained with Mothra’s help. An echoed power of an age long past, a time of true coexistence and harmony. 

_ Warera wa toki wo kasanete _

Godzilla shoved his weakened friends aside and let his cavernous jaws fall open once again, dorsal spines building yet more power. The most concentrated stream of atomic breath yet burst from his throat, searing the underground air as it roared toward its targets.

_ Kiseki wa yagate rekishi e to _

The Wielders dove, still cloaked in incredibly dense phonic power, and slammed into the heat ray head-on. They tore through the blue flames with little resistance, pushing downward as one.

_ Hokori kirameku darō! _

They broke through, continued down past Godzilla’s shocked, furious face, and turned abruptly to slam into his chest. The leviathan screamed as the impossible force behind the impact lifted him bodily from the floor. The 89,000-ton daikaiju was launched into the air by the combined efforts of six empowered humans, and he did not manage to land on his feet.

“Holy shit!” Chris yelled, “The twins weren’t kidding, this is…”

“Indescribable,” finished Tsubasa, “This is so much more than the battle with Fin é…”

“There’s more than I know what to do with, dess!” Kirika gasped, spinning in circles as she tried to get a good look at her glowing green wings.

_ Well done, all of you,  _ the Shobijin said in their heads.  _ It’s up to you now; boosting your phonic gain took a lot out of the Goddess. _

Indeed, Mothra looked to be slightly sagging, her wings drooping on either side of her as if it were a little too much effort to raise them.

“Can she at least shield Kohinata?” Tsubasa asked.

_ No need. We will take her to your allies. She should be safe at such a distance. _

Then a voice crackled in Hibiki, Chris, and Tsubasa’s ears. Speak of the devil.

“ _ We’re reading a whole lot of phonic gain over there! _ ”

“Hey, shishou!” Hibiki said with a laugh. “Yeah, we’re basically swimming in the stuff!”

“ _I don’t even need to ask,_ ” Genjuro said. “ _You girls have a knack for pulling out miracles at the last second. Good luck._ ”

“Thank you, Uncle.”

“Gotcha, old man. I’ll give ‘im one for you.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Shirabe asked, looking Godzilla’s way as the titan got to his feet. “How much stronger are we compared to him?”

“I’d wager the six of us together equal a bit more than one Mothra,” Chris said, “Which means we should be able to beat him if we play this smart.”

“We’re not here to defeat him, Chris-chan,” cut in Hibiki with a shake of her head, “We’re going to snap him out of whatever happened to his brain.”

“Do you have a plan for that?” Maria asked, flying over to her.

Hibiki rubbed the back of her head, a bit embarrassed. “Well, not quite yet. But I do my best thinking on the fly!”

Kirika snorted.

“What?” Hibiki blinked, “Oh. I honestly didn’t mean to make a joke there!”

“Can we focus?” Tsubasa interjected, summoning a sword. “We still have a daikaiju to deal with.” 

“How’re the other two?” asked Chris.

Kirika peered down. “Rodan looks like he’s out, dess.”

Indeed, the King of the Skies did not move save for the gentle rise and fall of his spiked chest. A good distance away, however, Anguirus was getting to his feet, eyeing the recovering Godzilla.

“Tenacious, ain’t he,” Chris commented.

“The 1955 one was too,” Maria reminded them. “That one was a fraction of this individual’s size, and it still withstood the point-blank blast of a nuclear bomb.”

Below, Anguirus howled at Godzilla, who responded with that same murderous bellow as before. The nuclear abomination’s attention quickly transferred to the hovering Wielders, and his rage intensified as he sensed the raw power they had gained.

Killing them had just become much more difficult.

Thump, thump, went the dorsal spines.

“Here we go,” breathed Maria. “What’s the plan, Hibiki-san?”

Hibiki clenched her fists. “Fight until I figure that part out. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Our opponent is Godzilla!” Tsubasa declared, readying her blade. “Stay sharp, and don’t die!”

And just like that, she was gone in an iridescent blur of blue.

“So formal,” Maria mused even as she followed, “It’s honestly kind of cute.”

Godzilla squared his stance and flexed his claws as the group approached from the air. Anguirus was moving on him more slowly, cautiously, evidently planning to serve as the humans’ backline.

It seemed all of his friends were fated to betray him.

The heat ray left his mouth accompanied by a scream of grief and pain, and the beam of blue fire cut through the very sky as the flying Symphogears swerved around it. Another instant and they were on him.

He swung a great scaly fist to punch the pink one, but found his fist connecting with naught but empty air as a colossal buzzsaw shredded the flesh on the back of his hand. At the same time, the green one flew right between his eyes, perched on the bridge of his nose, and hooked a huge scythe around his upper jaw, between his teeth. She took off a moment later, yanking Godzilla’s entire head to the side, disrupting his aim at the distant red one.

“Take it away, dess!” Kirika called.

Godzilla found himself confronted by the same massive sword the blue one had tried to use against him earlier. This time, however, it swung faster, harder. Rather than catch and shatter it with ease, as he had before, Godzilla only managed to knock the giant blade aside with the thick scales of his forearms. Even as Tsubasa retreated, eighty-meter sword still in hand, Godzilla found his vision obscured by smoke as concussive explosions, courtesy of Chris, went off against his neck. 

Maria saw an opportunity, and drew  Airgetlám’s Armed Gear from her chestplate. It came in the form of a shortsword, but Maria was sure she could make it count somehow.

And yet, a stream of atomic fire burst free of the smoke cloud, and only by turning on a proverbial dime was Maria able to avoid being scorched.

_ How did he- _

“Our songs…” Shirabe murmured, “With this much power behind them, they must be on par with kaiju bioacoustics!”

“He can track our exact positions by ear now,” grumbled Chris. “Why can’t shit ever just be easy?”

“Don’t give up, dess!” Kirika cried, jumping from dorsal spine to dorsal spine on her way up to the crown of Godzilla’s head. When she arrived, she wasn’t expecting to get swatted by one of the giant monster’s ears. There wasn’t enough force behind it to completely knock her off course, but she was still quite shocked, and was distracted enough not to notice Godzilla’s hand coming down on her until it was too late.

The furious titan inspected his palm, hoping to find a fine red paste, but found nothing. The little green human then appeared from the back of his hand, her scythe having tripled its blade count and grown to massive proportions, and sank it into his forearm. The three blades sank down to the bone and actually hooked around it, letting Kirika yank hard to restrain one of Godzilla’s limbs.

As a whole, he barely stumbled at her efforts, but that was still enough of an opening for Shirabe to try something. 

Shul Shagana began to grow incredibly fast, panels folding out of nothing, layers upon layers of metamaterial forming shapes, connecting segments, creating none other than a colossal, bright pink, humanoid mecha.

“It’s no Mechagodzilla,” Shirabe muttered as she dropped into the cockpit, “But it should do.”

Godzilla was  _ almost  _ given pause by the thing’s outlandish appearance; it had more chainsaws on it than could ever be practical. Not that Godzilla even knew what a chainsaw was, but he recalled one of those silver machines having entirely too many drills. This reminded him of that.

Instead of gawking at the bizarre shape of the thing, Godzilla threw himself at it, bearing down with his superior weight as he seized its “neck” with his free hand. Its “hands” came up to saw at his forearm, but evolution had thickened the scales there millions of years before his mutation. They would hold out longer than the machine’s armor.

He roared in its “face”, prompting a flinch from the tiny human seated at its controls. Shirabe poured a little more phonic power into the mech- which she had mentally named “Final Omega Style- Dystopia” for potential future use- and beefed up the sawblades just a little. The sparks flying from where they met Godzilla’s scales intensified.

That got more of a reaction, and the radioactive titan glared at Shirabe as a pale blue glow burned at his back.

“Little help here?!”

Maria appeared in a silver blur, projecting a transparent, triangular shield from three floating generators. The atomic breath streamed around it, sparing her and Shirabe from Godzilla’s nuclear wrath.

“It’s holding,” Maria grunted. “Before this, his attack would have torn through in an instant… we can do this!”

“Hurry it up,” Kirika cried at a distance, “I can’t hold this arm forever!”

“I’ll help!” Maria replied as the blue fire petered out. The wielder of  Airgetlám flapped her shining wings once and shot over to Kirika. The shortsword in her hand extended, becoming a whiplike chain, as long as Maria needed it to be.

She swung it, and it wrapped around the titan’s hand, taking some of the burden off Kirika. Despite how thin the cable connecting the segments of the chain was, it kept Godzilla from so much as moving his fingers.

Godzilla strained against the pull even as Shirabe’s saws at last drew blood from his forearm. Of course, he could feel the machine’s neck about to give way under his grip, so it didn’t matter. The rest of the annoying insects were keeping their distance, likely looking for an opening. And yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was forgetting something.

Godzilla felt a chill in his boiling blood, and turned his head with a furious scream just in time to watch Anguirus leap from the ground and clamp his powerful jaws around Godzilla’s arm, right at the elbow.

The enraged leviathan had no choice but to release Shirabe as Anguirus’ massive weight yanked not only Godzilla’s arm, but his entire body downwards.

Shirabe let the mech crumble into points of light. “Do we have him pinned?”

Then she gasped as Godzilla used the extra weight on him to lunge forward, lifting a foot to smash her. She was capable of taking much harder hits in this form, but Shirabe wasn’t confident that this was an attack she could survive.

The foot was coming down fast, and she had no defense. Almost unbidden, her eyes closed in preparation for the inevitable.

But it never came, and when Shirabe cracked her eyes open, what she saw would be etched into her memory forever.

Hibiki Tachibana stood over her, hands braced against the bottom of Godzilla’s foot.

Holding up over 89,000 tons of atomic reptile almost entirely by herself.

“It’s okay!” Hibiki grunted even as the earth around her feet cracked. “Everything’s… fine!”

“How are you- why?!”

In spite of the visible strain on her, Hibiki turned to offer Shirabe a smile. “Did you think I would just… let you die?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Shirabe replied, getting to her feet with renewed resolve, “Saving people’s your thing.”

Shirabe added four giant buzzsaws, lifted flat like shields, to Hibiki’s support. Together, keeping him from squashing them wouldn’t be a problem.

Then the weight was gone, courtesy of Tsubasa burying the edge of her giant sword in Godzilla’s calf. He roared as his loss of balance pulled painfully on the scythe in his arm, and all present winced at the sound when Igalima cut clean through the bone and sliced its way free of the scales. A swimming pool’s worth of steaming blood splashed to the ground. 

As for the other arm, Anguirus had it and adamantly refused to let go. Godzilla was barely on his feet with one arm out of commission, so in Anguirus’ mind, this had to be the wielders’ chance.

That idea vanished from the ankylosaur’s brain when the “out of commission” fist slammed into the side of his face. Godzilla had healed already.

Anguirus tried a different strategy and released his jaws, rearing up onto his hind legs to bring his weight down on his opponent. He didn’t expect Godzilla to surge upward and headbutt him in the stomach, a place with far less armor than his back.

Continuing his rise, Godzilla seized Anguirus’ back legs and heaved him from the ground. With a final scream of rage and exertion, Godzilla straightened to his full height and shoved Anguirus off him, sending the titanic dinosaur crashing to the ground hard enough to cause a localized earthquake. He landed on his back, too, exposing the relatively vulnerable underbelly.

Godzilla was about to turn his old friend’s innards to ash when explosions detonated rapidly against the side of his head. He directed the atomic breath at the distant culprit of the bombardment- Chris- instead. As she often did, the Ichaival wielder took a unique approach to dealing with the incoming fire.

She canceled it out with equal firepower, firing missile after missile from the gigantic array of launchers that hovered around her. 

_ I can do this all day, you overgrown iguana,  _ Chris thought, arms folded as she let loose with more munitions in a second than were used in the entirety of Godzilla’s first raid sixty-six years prior.

Even as her rain of fire improbably began to push back the atomic heat ray, Chris addressed Anguirus, amplifying her voice just in case his keen ears didn’t catch her words.

“What’re you waitin’ for?!”

Anguirus rolled his eyes in acknowledgement and got to his feet. Godzilla noticed him, but dared not let up on his atomic breath. As such, the opening presented to Anguirus was wider than ever. But how best to take advantage of it…

The idea hit Anguirus all at once, and so he swung his tail.

Godzilla’s arm had healed so fast because the severing of the bone had been clean, but it would be significantly harder to repair a  _ shattered _ bone.

And so the great spiked club at the end of Anguirus’ tail swung. There were two cracking sounds: the first when the appendage’s swing broke the sound barrier, and the second when the solid bony club utterly destroyed Godzilla’s femur.

Godzilla was a very old creature. Even without unending fury to distract him, his physical pain tolerance was incredible.

He still screamed all the way to the floor as he lost a leg to stand on, and Anguirus turned to press his newfound advantage.

“Anguirus… he’s strong,” Tsubasa breathed. 

“He won’t be winning for long, dess,” Kirika said. “That’s still Godzilla.”

Maria rose higher. “Let’s use the time he’s buying us well. Regroup!”

The six wielders flew to meet each other, high in the air.

“Plan, now!” Chris demanded of Hibiki.

“Okay, okay, okay,” replied Hibiki, hands gesticulating in front of her face. “What we need to do is-”

“If you say ‘hit him really hard’, I swear-”

Hibiki made an indignant noise. “It’s not that simple, Chris-chan!”

“Can we skip this, dess?” Kirika asked.

Tsubasa added, “I concur. Anguirus can only provide so much time.”

“I’ll be quick, then,” Hibiki said. “A Symphogear’s power changes based on its user’s outlook. That’s how they used Miku to make him angry.”

Maria glanced down at Godzilla and Anguirus with no shortage of nervousness. “Yes, so how are we going to undo that?”

“My Armed Gear isn’t a spear,” Hibiki answered, “It’s my fist… which can open into an outstretched hand. We’re going to reach out to him with all our hearts.”

“You really think you can make him see reason?” Shirabe asked as the one they spoke of sank his fangs into Anguirus’ shoulder.

“Of course!”

“How so?” Maria pressed, “What exactly are we going to do?”

Hibiki turned to her. “First thing’s first, we all have to hold hands again.”

Even as the six of them linked their hands again, Anguirus found his advantage vanishing quickly. His old friend’s leg could already support his weight again, and the ankylosaur was having a hard time prying Godzilla’s jaws off his own shoulder.

“Okay,” continued Hibiki, “What we’re going to do is hit him really hard… in the head. Knock some sense into him. There’s no strategy behind it, that’s just our best bet to get through to him.”

Maria began to focus her phonic power. “I understand. The shortest and fastest route, after all…”

“Is directly forward, in a straight line!” Hibiki finished, doing the same.

Their armor detached from their bodies and rose, expanding and unfolding into new shapes, coming together to form a pair of gigantic hands, made of the power of song made solid.

The hands, one glittering gold and the other shining silver, came together around the group of six, fingers interlocking. Godzilla, noticing this, released Anguirus before kicking the giant dinosaur with his good leg. Rather than jump back into the fray, Anguirus observed the sheer power around the great hands and backed off.

Godzilla’s spines burned blue as he stared up at the wielders, stance squared and ready.

All at once, the clasped hands descended, tearing through the air and spinning on their way down, building more and more force with which to impact their unstoppable foe.

Godzilla drew even deeper on his reserves of atomic fire, and so when the blue flames burst from his mouth, they, too, were spinning, an azure heat ray spiraling the opposite direction to the approaching attack.

But when they met, there was no contest. The spinning gauntlets shredded the atomic fire, drilling through the attack at speed, rapidly getting closer and closer to their goal.

Within the clasped hands, Hibiki thought of that goal- Godzilla’s face. Recalled the milky, dead eyes he had displayed for this entire berserker rage. Despite his fury, he had seemed lifeless to Hibiki, who had battled with him before, and observed the personality of the titan. In her opinion, this state didn’t suit a regal, mighty creature like him.

So she elected to bring the life back to those eyes. She focused on that, that desire. She felt her will take root within the great golden hand, and then felt Maria’s silver arm match that same will.

“Almost there!” Chris yelled.

“The fire is more concentrated closer to his mouth,” grunted Tsubasa as their progress slowed, “But…!”

Godzilla’s brow furrowed. They weren’t stopping. Why weren’t they stopping?

“We can do this!” Kirika cried. “We’ll right this wrong!”

Shirabe chimed in, “To atone for our mistakes!”

Godzilla’s head hurt. They hadn’t even hit him yet, and it hurt. Why were they so set on fighting him? Why was he so set on killing them?

The bomb. The bomb took everything.

But they were not to blame for that, were they?

He was angry, so angry. But why? 

Godzilla flinched for an instant, and the pressure behind the atomic breath lessened, just slightly.

The linked hands broke through and slammed into Godzilla, right between his eyes. The force of the impact was so tremendous that Mothra crouched down in front of Miku and the Shobijin, shielding them from the shockwave. Rodan’s unconscious body was pushed tens of meters over the ground, and Anguirus had to dig his claws into the earth to not be moved.

By all accounts, the energy of the strike should have cracked even Godzilla’s skull. But instead, as the great hands broke apart into points of light, all that happened was an increase to the discomfort in his mind. He groaned and stumbled, more confused than ever.

But his eyes remained clouded, his body tense with anger.

“It didn’t work?” Hibiki whispered in shock as she began to fall, armorless. 

“It did! Just give him a little more, Hibiki!”

A hand clasped hers.

Maria’s.

With flickering wings, Maria carried Hibiki back up toward the nuclear leviathan’s face. Even as the last of her power was expended and her moth’s wings dissolved, Maria flung Hibiki at him.

Hibiki was approaching his scaly cheek at high speed. Though she wore no gauntlets, the girl drew her fist back all the same.

“GODZILLAAAAAAAAAAA!”

Hibiki punched Godzilla in the face.

Vitalization.

The clouds dispersed, and Hibiki was treated to the up-close sight of Godzilla’s vibrant orange eye.

Then it rolled back in his head as the daikaiju passed out.

Hibiki smiled, but then felt a peculiar drowsiness overtake her as well. The world was fading to black rapidly, and she was a hundred meters off the ground.

_ I hope someone… catches me…  _ Hibiki thought as she lost consciousness.

Hibiki woke up, which she took to be a good sign.

But what she felt beneath her back wasn’t the rough, hot earth of the underground city. It was unmistakably sand. Had they evacuated?

“Miku? Chris-chan? Anybody?”

Hibiki sat up. There was nothing around her but sand, sea, and the open blue sky, dotted with clouds. The beach curved to her left, sloping up to a hilly island. The greenery was lush and tropical.

“Where the heck am I?” Hibiki asked nobody as she got to her feet. She was no longer in her gear, instead sporting her normal casual wear.

Which made no sense, because that had burned away with her original, implanted Gungnir.

“Hello? Anybody here?” she called through cupped hands, walking up the beach. The sand jutted out into the water a bit, still wet in places as the tide receded. 

“I am so confused,” Hibiki muttered, looking out at the waves with her hands on her hips.

“Don’t be.”

Hibiki knew that voice. She hadn’t heard it in months and months, but she knew it well. She'd spent multiple days in its owner’s company while it resonated in her subconscious, trying to calm Hibiki’s latent emotions to hold back her own “berserk” state.

She whirled to find none other than Miki Saegusa.

“Miki-san!” Hibiki cried in surprise, resisting the urge to hug the older woman. “Why- how- where-”

“Calm down, Tachibana-san,” Miki replied, hands raised placatingly. “I have a few ideas as to what’s going on here. Before that, though… I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that it was you Godzilla was fighting.”

“Eh? How’d you know?”

Miki tapped her temple, “I made a psychic connection with him when he came ashore and fought MG-II and MOGUERA. Not one of my brightest ideas, but I think it’s why we’re here… wherever here is.”

“Then you could feel what he was feeling that whole time?” asked Hibiki.

Miki let out an embarrassed little chuckle. “Yeah. Felt like my head had burst open. I barely managed to drag myself to the toilet before-”

Hibiki waved her arms. “Okay, okay, I don’t need THAT many details, Miki-san.”

“Right, sorry. As for this… I think we’re in his memories. The ones that were used to drive him mad just now.”

“But then, shouldn’t we be seeing them from his perspective?”

Miki smiled. “To say nothing of how intelligent Godzilla is, even human brains are powerful enough to essentially reconstruct the environment of a memory. Our consciousnesses have been inserted into that environment. This is exactly what happens when Jaeger pilots ‘chase the rabbit’, as the phenomenon is called.”

Hibiki nodded in what she hoped was a sagely manner. “Yes, yes. Makes sense. But why am  _ I  _ here? I’m not a telepath like you, Miki-san.”

“You tried to snap him out of that berserk state, right? You would’ve had to connect with him to do that. Even if he didn’t mean to, Godzilla opened himself up to you just now.”

“Me?” Hibiki echoed, feeling oddly flattered.

Miki huffed. “Wish he’d done that for me sooner. Would’ve spared me some headaches…”

She trailed off, and Hibiki tilted her head.

“What were you saying, Miki-san?”

“Hush,” Miki commanded. “Look out there.”

Hibiki scanned the water, and quickly picked out what Miki was referring to.

They were canoes, rowing to shore.

They were far enough from Hibiki and Miki that the people within weren’t distinguishable, but their skin was of a much darker shade than either of the Japanese women.

“With what we know about Godzilla’s past…” Miki speculated, “Pacific islanders, perhaps? Is that where we are?”

The islanders came ashore and disembarked, hauling the canoes up onto the sand and heading for the dense treeline with the contents of the canoes. A few stayed behind, sitting on rocks, resting in the pleasant sunshine.

“Why is this part of Godzilla’s memories?” Hibiki asked, looking around for any sign of the kaiju they knew.

That was when the pair of them spotted something else approaching the island.

Not just a single bulge in the sea, but  _ three. _

The first to approach the shore was the smallest. The triple rows of dorsal spines that pierced the water’s surface were all small and rounded, of a consistent five-pronged shape. When the rest of the kaiju’s body left the water, Hibiki couldn’t suppress a gasp.

It was short even by kaiju standards, not even thirty meters high. A pale, tan color, it was unmistakably of Godzilla’s species. Its head and eyes seemed much larger in proportion to its body, suggesting a young creature. 

It was adorable.

The adolescent Godzillasaur let out a high-pitched roar as it came ashore, still shaking the ground despite its small size. The islanders just watched it, with some of them even calling out nonverbal greetings to the creature. It let out an almost purr-like rumble from its throat, pronounced gills vibrating a bit with the action.

When the second one came ashore, it brought a wave with it, almost big enough to reach the canoes on the sand. 

Hibiki gasped again, for a different reason.

This one was much larger than the first. Its scales a rich, dark green, the second Godzillasaur towered over not only the first, but all of the trees on the shore. Its black eyes surveyed the humans on the sand with interest, peering down from a thinner, more reptilian head than its kin. Most striking were its colossal, almost crystalline dorsal spines, tinted an uncanny shade of purple. 

Shaking its shoulders a bit, the large green one turned back to the water, where the third bulge was lingering, submerged save for a set of much more familiar spines.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Hibiki whispered, voice still tinged with awe at seeing two more of Godzilla’s kind.

“I’ve seen those two before…” Miki replied. “He travels with them… the larger one is a female, I think.”

The larger Godzillasaur let out a roar of her own and doubled back toward the sea. Her voice was far deeper than even the modern Godzilla’s, a guttural growl.

A muffled growl of reply sounded from Godzilla’s submerged form, and Hibiki almost laughed as the larger one rolled her eyes and reached down to pull Godzilla’s head from the water, who protested with a halfhearted snarl. Now there was a familiar face.

Indeed, despite the varying facial structure between the three Godzillasaurs, Hibiki easily recognized the distinct features of “their” Godzilla, like the blunt snout and bright orange eyes beneath a thick brow.

The female Godzillasaur gestured at the humans onshore. Godzilla roared at them, but it sounded far from friendly. Even so, they didn’t turn to run, just yelled back at him, waving energetically.

“They’re communicating,” Miki said, wonder painted all over her expression. “This is clearly long after coexistence collapsed, but… they’re communicating!”

At length, Godzilla rose from the sea and came ashore. He was a fair bit shorter than the green female, but taller than the tan adolescent. Fifty meters, just like in 1954. 

He looked down at the islanders with a lot less interest than his companions. Evidently his distaste for humanity had humble beginnings millennia before the nuclear tests.

The green one let out another roar, this one loud and sustained, and was joined shortly by Godzilla and the young one. Even the humans yelled, though their sound was drowned out by the three kaiju, at least to Hibiki and Miki.

Birds scattered from the trees as the titans’ cries faded.

The ground shook.

What came around the corner of one of the island’s hills was like another bucket of pure awe being dumped on the two present-day observers.

It was yet another member of Godzilla’s kind, absolutely colossal. Taller even than the modern-day Godzilla, this one dwarfed all three of the visitors. It was incredibly broad as well, all rippling muscle and thick scales. It was a washed-out grayish color, with wise yellow eyes peering out from an angular face. Its spines, while similar in size to the green-scaled female’s, were relatively small in proportion to its body. They were rough and sharp, almost rock-like in appearance. They reminded Hibiki of three lines of crowns running the length of this daikaiju’s back.

“That one!” Miki exclaimed. “That’s the one whose skeleton they found in the Philippines!”

The giant Godzillasaur let out a low rumble, and this time the islanders did not call out in greeting but rather bowed to the titan. The green one huffed, the tip of her tail stirring up the shallows. At her vocalization, the great gray one tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly.

Godzilla chimed in too, gesturing to the blue sky. The little tan one just looked back and forth between the conversing giants, as if trying to follow along.

“Do you know what they’re saying, Miki-san?”

“Kaiju speak is more meaning than it is words,” Miki replied, “So the best I can get right now are bits and pieces, but… something about an enemy.”

The giant one’s teeth were bared by that point, and with thundering steps he made his way to the water. He turned his boxy head skyward and roared, but what caught the two observers off guard was the response: a distant chitter.

“No way,” Hibiki said, searching the skies.

And there it was: a giant moth, circling the island, its wings all in hues of blue and green, a startling contrast to Mothra’s familiar oranges and reds.

“There were more of her kind, too?” 

“But,” Miki murmured, “What’s this ‘enemy’ they were referring to…?”

As the gray titan began to swim away from the island and the small tan Godzillasaur lay down to rest, the scene began to flicker and fade.

“Wait, it’s over?” Hibiki cried.

“Maybe he’s moving to a new memory,” suggested Miki, “In response to my question?”

Suddenly, there was no more sun. 

The sky had turned red.

“Ehh?!” Hibiki cried, whirling in place to take in their new surroundings.

Everything was on fire, including the sky itself. Yellow thunderbolts lanced down from the roiling clouds periodically.

And all around them rested the corpses of gods.

Miki shuddered. “These are all…”

“Godzillas?” Hibiki finished, backing away from the nearest still body.

Their sizes, shapes, and colors all varied, but they were all unmistakably members of Godzilla’s species. They were also unmistakably dead.

“What could have-”

Then they were both knocked off their feet by the sudden impact of another kaiju landing on the nearby corpse. What struck them as odd, though, was that the newcomer was none other than the Godzilla they knew.

His face was twisted in pain as arcs of golden electricity danced over his scales. Breathing heavily, Godzilla climbed off the body and glared into the distance. When Hibiki and Miki turned to track his gaze, they found only a mountain.

A mountain framed with strange lights, emitted by  _ something _ going on on its other side. The lightning was far more intense there, and, intermittently, jets of orange fire careened into the already-burning sky.

Godzilla took a step toward the mysterious carnage, but collapsed immediately.

In their ears, ringing. Like a bell, but less metallic and more natural, almost like high-pitched laughter.

Then, as it became nearly too loud to bear, the scene changed again. 

They were once again in a tropical sea.

Miki paled. “I know this place… I’ve seen it. This is where…”

Hibiki followed her eyes and was greeted by the sight of the same three kaiju from the first memory, swimming toward them. Closest were the purple spines of the female, with the young, small one close behind. Godzilla was furthest of the three, roaring repeatedly. All of them were nearing Hibiki and Miki.

“Where are we, Miki-san?” Hibiki asked, made nervous by the psychic’s reaction alone.

“Bikini Atoll,” she answered. “March first, 1954.”

It was Hibiki’s turn to pale. “You mean…”

Miki turned around slowly, trepidation filling her. “Yes… Castle Bravo.”

Behind them loomed the bomb tower.

“Damn Americans…” Miki muttered. “They lured them with the nuclear material…”

“I never knew…” Hibiki gasped, hands over her mouth, “That it was more than just him…”

Miki glared at the innocuous device high above. “This bomb didn’t just mutate him… it killed his family, didn’t it?”

Then it went off, and both women, for just a split second, shared Godzilla’s agony as fifteen megatons of explosive force drowned them- and the three kaiju- in unimaginable heat and radiation. The pain was worse than Hibiki’s fusion, worse than Miki’s migraines, and though a human would have been burnt to nothing in an instant Godzilla had  _ taken  _ the blast and had to  _ live _ with this pain  _ and  _ the knowledge that  _ only he  _ had escaped alive-

Then the memory was done, and instead of heat there was cold.

They were underwater, floating with Godzilla while he thrashed in a cloud of his own superheated blood as it poured from open wounds, cancerous growths, every orifice as his gills feverishly tried to draw enough oxygen from the water to let the abomination continue screaming in agony.

Before either of them could even begin to absorb the horror of the situation, the memory was replaced by another new one.

They stood among the residents of Odo Island, and looked on as Godzilla’s misshapen, mutated head, still bleeding, peered over a hilltop and let out that awful, mournful scream.

It changed again, and they were looking on as he stomped through the burnt remains of 1954 Tokyo, leaving destruction and death behind him as he sought the waves again.

Another memory jump, and Miki and Hibiki screamed again as they were stricken by the sensation of the Oxygen Destroyer eating away their skin and flesh and muscles and even their organs.

Momentary darkness, and then they were with him at the bottom of the Japan Trench as he opened a great orange eye to behold the doomed MONARCH Outpost 54.

And then they were back to the smaller, pre-mutation Godzilla once again, standing among sauropods as every living thing present, be it dinosaur or kaiju, looked up to see a gigantic meteorite streak across the distant sky, tearing the atmosphere and leaving nothing but a quiet, ringing cackle in its wake.

The flurry of memories settled, momentarily, on something Hibiki had seen just recently.

It was the underground city, except it was teeming with life.

_ Human  _ life. 

Godzilla, walking the wide path up to his temple, being hailed by everyone he passed as the humans used a curious mixture of primitive and advanced technologies to go about their daily lives.

A memory of coexistence.

Flash.

Two armies, flinging both catapults and plasma cannons at each other. Titanosaurus and Varan, patron gods of their city-states, grappling in the middle of the carnage.

Flash.

Tokyo, 1954. Tiny humans shooting their tiny lead bullets at his open wounds. As if they had any right to defend themselves against his revenge, his justice.

Flash.

A human toddler, waddling across the temple altar to place a chubby hand against the scales of his snout, an innocent, toothless smile on its face.

Flash.

Godzilla and Mothra, who was also smaller than in the modern day, bleeding and winded, on the shores of Infant Island.

Back and forth, back and forth. From coexistence to opposition. Friends to foes.

Flash.

Hedorah, dark blue rather than black, glaring at him as it wallowed in the muck and waste at Mu’s southern shore.

Hibiki and Miki could scarcely keep up.

Flash.

Both women jumped at the unmistakable sight of the burnt, smoldering remains of Hiroshima.

They felt Godzilla’s at-the-time confusion at what could have caused such extensive damage to a human city  _ and  _ woken him up.

Flash.

That same island from the first memory, but with no islanders to be seen. A calm, still night sky above them, glittering with innumerable stars, the Milky Way splashed across it with the Moon reaching its peak for the night.

Hibiki and Miki, likely both awaiting the next horrible window into yesterday, were silent for a long moment, or a short lifetime.

But it never came.

Hibiki broke the quiet first.

“Is… is it over?”

The sea broke open, and the current Godzilla surged ashore, roaring furiously. 105 meters of nuclear wrath stomped onto the beach, into the trees, and slammed its fists into the tallest hill. He screamed and howled as his back periodically lit up the night with echoing thumps, tail leveling the jungle as he tore into the earth in front of him with strong arms and sharp claws.

The observers just observed.

It didn’t take long. Before Godzilla’s might, the hill was soon reduced to half its height, barely reaching his shoulders. The titan stood, teeth bared and frame vibrating with tension and anger, before he threw his head back and screamed, releasing a blue jet of atomic fire into the star-studded sky.

The flame and his roar died as one, and Hibiki’s chest felt tight as she watched such a noble creature as Godzilla slump forward with a low, throaty rumble that reminded her only of a human’s sobbing. He rested against the remains of the hill, breathing deeply and quickly, dorsal spines at last fading to their usual colors.

No insects chirped, no night-birds cried. There were only leaves in the wind, and the sounds of Godzilla’s heart and breathing.

And then he was there, standing on the shore with them. Maybe ten feet tall, a fraction of his true enormity, but otherwise identical. Watching himself.

He turned his head toward Hibiki, downsized eyes still burning orange like hot coals. He did not speak, but Hibiki felt like she could tell what he was trying to say to her. 

She imagined he was saying something along the lines of  _ Do you understand now? _

“I…” Hibiki began, her throat almost failing her as she tried to absorb everything. “I don’t know if you’ll… get what I’m saying. I hope you will.”

The smaller projection of Godzilla’s consciousness turned his whole body to face her. Hibiki took that to mean yes.

“I know you’re old, but I never really understood what that  _ meant,  _ I guess. I… I never even thought about how much you could’ve been through.”

Godzilla blinked at her.

“You’ve… lost everything. All those other Godzillas, gone… and the humans turned their backs on you.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Tried to kill you as soon as you woke up. Because they were afraid of you.”

Godzilla offered Hibiki a short nod.

“Do you miss that?” Hibiki asked. “Living side-by-side with us?”

Godzilla looked at the sand with a gentle sigh.

Hibiki took a brave step towards the miniaturized titan. “You don’t think we can ever go back, do you?”

The fiery eyes darted up to hers again.

“I think… I think we can.”

Godzilla snorted.

“I know you think humanity’s wronged you, but… we aren’t all bad that way. We’re not one collective species, we’re seven billion different people. Some of those people hate you… a lot of them fear you.”

Godzilla searched her face and found nothing but earnesty.

“But I think that could change if they understood you. And that doesn’t go for just you, either!”

Behind them, in the memory, Mothra descended, gently, and came to rest near Godzilla, wings aglow.

“You’re not truly alone. You have her, you have Rodan and Anguirus…”

Hibiki took a few more steps closer.

“I’ll be your friend, too.”

Godzilla tilted his head at her.

“I haven’t been through what you have, but I’ve seen humanity at its cruelest too. I know what it’s like to be hated for something you can’t control.”

The smaller Godzilla nodded even as, behind them, Mothra draped one wing over the larger’s still form.

“Even so, I believe in people. I think with a little work, you can bring out the best in anybody. That’s why I fight. And I want you to be the best you can be, Godzilla.”

Hibiki was within arm’s reach now. Even in this tiny projected form, he towered over her. She held out her hand, palm up, and offered the leviathan a smile.

“Can you try, at least? To get along with people? So that maybe, one day, we can understand kaiju again?”

Godzilla considered her. Considered Miki, watching them at a distance.

He considered the past. He considered the war, the pain, the death. He considered the peace, the calm, the life.

He considered the future, and the shapes it could take.

Godzilla reached out and rested his hand on Hibiki’s own.

He would try.

The memory faded to black one last time.

Hibiki bolted upright with a gasp. She looked down at herself and found the spare clothes she’d been wearing before putting on Gungnir. That meant she was out of the memory, but she was somehow still warm.

“Hibiki!”

“Dumbass!”

Miku practically tackled her in a hug, while Chris held back with just an expression of joyous relief. 

“You had us worried there for a moment, Tachibana,” Tsubasa said, long hair practically blowing sideways.

Returning Miku’s embrace, Hibiki laughed sheepishly. “Ehe, sorry about that. What happened?”

She was answered by a chirp, and it was then that Hibiki realized where they were, and why she was so warm and comfortable.

They were on Mothra’s back. The moth goddess was flying, circling Godzilla’s prone form on the cavern floor.

Miana and Maina approached. “The Goddess carried us to you six as you fell. We managed to catch you in time.”

“Six?”

A call from behind them, “Up here, dess!”

Hibiki turned to find Maria, Kirika, and Shirabe perched on Mothra’s head. Kirika sat cross-legged, waving cheerfully, while Maria had her chin resting on her knees. Shirabe was facedown in the flying kaiju’s fluff.

“What happened to you, Hibiki?” Miku asked, finally pulling away, though she refused to let go.

“I went into his head,” Hibiki replied. “We had a chat, I think. I assume it wasn’t all a dream.”

“We’ll see,” said Chris, placing a hand on Hibiki’s shoulder, “Looks like he’s wakin’ up.”

At the distance Mothra was circling, they could see the titan on the ground. Indeed, he had pushed himself to his feet, and was slowly straightening with a groan. He didn’t rise to his full height, though.

Slouching slightly, Godzilla opened his eyes. They burned orange once again.

“That mean he’s back to normal?”

Mothra stopped circling to hover in place, watching him as, back to his senses, Godzilla looked around the cavern. His eyes lingered at the worst of the destruction he’d caused.

The ancient city was at least halfway reduced to smoldering rubble. Anguirus was keeping a respectful distance away, and Rodan was still sleeping on the rocky floor.

All told, it was a disaster zone. 

Godzilla took a step backward, shaking his head with a rumbling sigh. Eyes downcast, he turned for the cavern’s exit. His steps were slow, almost automatic, and the whole length of his great tail dragged on the floor as Godzilla disappeared into the Hollow Earth’s tunnels. When he’d gone, Anguirus made his way over to Rodan to wake the hyper-evolved pterosaur.

“He’s gone,” Maria said. “Did we really do it?”

The Shobijin closed their eyes for a moment, then spoke together. “We no longer sense the malice within. The one you call Gojira has calmed.”

“Phew,” Chris said. “World saved again, I guess.”

Shirabe lifted her face from Mothra’s fuzz. “So what happens now?”

Tsubasa sighed. “Well, we obviously can’t just let the three of you walk free.”

Kirika frowned.

“But we’ll keep you in S.O.N.G. custody. Try to figure out some loopholes for you.”

“After everything we’ve done?” Maria asked.

Chris huffed. “You did some bad shit, yeah. But even I can tell you aren’t bad people. I’ve been where you three were, trust me. It doesn’t hafta define you.”

Hibiki took the pendant off her neck and got to her feet, facing the other three Symphogear wielders.

“I hope we can all be friends!”

Then she lifted Gungnir toward Maria.

The woman shook her head. “I told you, that’s yours. Keep it. Keep on fighting for what you believe in.”

Hibiki closed her hand around the crimson pendant. “A world where people and kaiju can live together. After talking to Godzilla… I’ve decided that’s what I need to help create.”

“Is that really realistic?” Tsubasa murmured.

The Shobijin piped up. “Quite. It was once the norm, even. And just now, Hibiki Tachibana, you achieved something similar with Gojira, not long after all of you harmonized with the Goddess.”

Shirabe looked at Hibiki for a long moment. “Yeah. Something tells me that the world you fight for… isn’t all that far off. Someday, people will live in harmony with each other, and the monsters. I think we just got a peek into that future.”

“All thanks to your songs,” Miku added.

Maria smiled.

“Songs saved the world, huh?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Chris chuckled, ruffling Hibiki’s hair.

Below, on the ground, Land Moguera rolled their way, ready to take them back to the surface. To the new normal of the Age of Monsters having begun anew. The hope in all of their hearts was that this time, it would come to an end not through the exhaustion of war, but negotiated peace.

“Hibiki Tachibana.”

Hibiki turned to look at Maria once again.

“I’m glad that I got to meet you.”

**CHAPTER XIX: Make History With A Light Godzilla Could Not Know**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Nijiro no Flugel starts*  
> Thus concludes the first arc of The New Age of Monsters.   
> What, did you really think Goji would be the antagonist the whole time? This fic is going to be all about him growing /beyond/ being a misanthropic monster.  
> Sorry for the long wait again. I hope this one being long too can make up for that.   
> Getting this far into my passion project, enough to complete one cohesive story arc, feels insane to me. Thank you all for your continued support on this weird bundle of wish-fulfilling crossovers. Every kudo and comment makes me happy. See you in Chapter 20!


	20. CHAPTER XX: Whatever Tomorrow Brings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the efforts of Hibiki Tachibana, Godzilla has resolved to give humanity one more try. But new and old threats still lurk in the dark. The skeletons in humanity's closet return to menace the present, the vacuum of space births a new threat, and, somewhere, one of the mightiest forces on Planet Earth prepares to make its move against the very human race itself... even with Godzilla as a new potential ally, will the Symphogear Wielders, Eva Pilots, and Jaeger Rangers be able to weather the coming storm?  
> And just what exactly is frozen in Mars' northern ice cap?

_“Y’know, space stations offer one helluva view of Earth. That’s all most people ever comment on. For me, though, it’s the view of everything else. Of the impossible… emptiness of outer space all around. It kinda got to me after a while, especially knowing that aliens could come flying out of it and attack us at any moment. It’s just crazy to think about how… we really aren’t alone out there.”_

**-Kaijuologist Dr. Richard Stanton, head of the Hedorah Research Team aboard the Banno Containment Satellite.**

  
  


**> ’** **The New Age of Monsters‘ <**

  
  


Scientifically, most things happen by chance. Spiritually, everything is guided by destiny. The destiny of the thin beam of purple light that erupted from the bottom of the Pacific and tore its way through the water to the surface should have, by all accounts, been to fizzle away into loose, disorganized photons.

But, due to its nature of being produced by a certain ancient relic, it did not.

It continued on its way, up into the sky, into the clouds. Past the tropopause, the stratopause. Higher and higher, into the upper atmosphere, still burning as bright as when it had been fired as it left the Earth behind. With the rapidly decreasing drag as the air thinned, the beam of photons and phonic energy accelerated, approaching its proper speed of light.

In the vacuum of space, it got even closer, but two things held it back. First was the phonic energy making up much of its integrity.

The second was the microscopic cells trapped within it, ripped off the surface of a certain daikaiju’s scales.

Chance, or destiny?

On the outer edge of planet Earth’s gravity well, there was an asteroid locked in orbit around it. About one hundred meters across, large enough to cause damage if it impacted, but certainly not cause any sort of mass extinction. It had circled the planet for millions of years at this safe distance, beyond even the planet’s own Moon.

It happened to be right in the path of Shénshòujìng’s laser.

By all accounts, the high-energy beam should have smashed through it, just as it had the crust of the Earth. But when its leading edge drilled a hole in the innocuous chunk of spacefaring rock, its progress was barred by something more unique than the asteroid’s appearance suggested.

The object was a gigantic, floating geode.

When Shénshòujìng’s light met the crystals, it could no longer pierce through. It reflected and refracted over and over, suffusing the minerals with energy and causing them to take on a pale purple hue as the photons and phonic power bounced around.

Eventually the surrounding rock could not contain the high-energy crystal and shattered, revealing the giant bundle of glowing gemstone.

A remarkable event by itself.

But what was more remarkable was what followed.

The Godzilla cells had survived it all, and now rested, nestled into the crystalline structure of the floating geode.

Subsisting on leftover energy, the cells began to divide, swallowing bits of crystal through their sturdy membranes. Incorporating it into their own structure. The DNA of one of Earth’s mightiest titans altered itself, splitting and reforming its double helixes to turn the cell membrane into toughened mineral. In prioritizing survival and mitosis, however, the cells were forced to forego much of the genetic memory of their original owner.

In the cold, dark depths of interplanetary space, life began to bloom.

The crystal asteroid’s orbit began to shift.

The man continued to watch, blinking only when he could no longer avoid it. For all the importance of his duties, he was still human, with human limits. Fortunately, in the fraction of a second it took him to blink, nothing changed in the stone he was watching.

The lone source of light in the chamber, the slab of yellow crystal came roughly to his waist. That was not the fault of the crystal, but rather the above-average height the man had been blessed with. In the years since he had risen to his position, though, he had developed a bit of a crick in the neck from looking down at the pillar all the time.

Somehow, that was the only physical problem he had ever experienced in his position. His legs never tired of standing before it, and his eyes never strained or tired despite him staring at a dim glow in an otherwise pitch-black room. If anything, _all_ of his senses had sharpened over the years. 

That was how he managed to hear the door to the chamber gently slide open despite its engineered silence. It was also engineered not to admit any light to the chamber by way of the hallway leading up to it. 

_A visitor at this hour?_ thought the man, checking his mental track of the time outside. _I’m not due to be relieved yet._

The man listened to the steps of the person who slipped through, picking up the subtle shifts to the person’s light weight. It was a gait he knew well, and he felt a smile cross his face in the dark.

“Why the visit, my apprentice?”

He spoke in the gentlest of whispers so as to not offend his hypersensitive ears. Even so, the sound resounded around the chamber.

The boy’s steps stopped as he responded in a high whisper of his own. “No particular reason, my teacher. I simply felt compelled.”

“Well, don’t just stand there. Observe it with me.”

The gentle steps continued, and the man’s keen eyes picked out movement even in the blackness. When the pitter-patter of the newcomer’s bare feet ceased, he was close enough to the crystal for it to just barely cast its gentle yellow glow onto his face. His features, angular for his age, were outlined in shadows, and the young boy’s red eyes gazed into the slab, instead of at the man.

“Has it seen any change since Godzilla calmed, my teacher?”

The man pursed his lips. “Nothing significant. There was a peculiar streak of lilac, but it faded in mere moments. Far too vague for our prophecies.”

They stood in silence for minutes, or perhaps hours, just watching the gentle shimmer of the yellow light emitting from the crystalline stone.

At length, the boy spoke in a whisper once again, “How have you not lost your mind yet, my teacher? Alone in the dark like this…”

The man clucked his tongue. “The shadows of this chamber are but an imitation of our Lord’s domain-”

“The infinite dark between the stars, yes, I’ve been to your sermons,” the boy cut him off irritably, “This just seems dreadfully boring. I do not look forward to having this duty.”

The man considered his words. “Every Watcher trains a successor, but they also hope that a successor becomes unnecessary. With a bit of luck, I will be the last one to monitor the Garbetrium.”

“Yet ten thousand years pass,” replied the boy, “Generations of our folk wasting away their lives for a prophecy that may never come true.”

“It may not,” the man admitted, “But even so, it is the most important prophecy in the history of this planet, which extends far beyond the history of our people.”

The boy was silent another moment. “Why is it that we hope for the return of a being that could undo all creation, my teacher?”

The man breathed deeply, listened to the air itself as it entered and exited his own lungs as he prepared to recite. “The prophecy, my apprentice. The Voidking has menaced this world for a long time… but it is foretold that when next he returns, it will be for the final time.”

“I’m aware,” the boy responded. “I have read it.”

“However, that supposed finality… is vague. There are two different possible reasons his next visit will be the last: he will either triumph and destroy this world once and for all, or he will be defeated, driven off, perhaps killed for good.”

“...I see.”

“So you see, my apprentice, we do not _hope_ for his return, but we _anticipate_ it. We whom the Voidking has touched more than any other band of humanity, wish to bear witness to his fate within our lifetimes. This is because the Voidking’s fate... is closely entwined with the fate of Earth itself.”

The boy’s red eyes had turned away from the crystal, searching for the man, who stood too far back from the slab to be illuminated by its faint light. The only thing the boy found in the darkness was the glint of the man’s similarly crimson eyes, just barely reflecting the glow.

“I… understand, my teacher.”

“I am glad you were able to learn. Perhaps that is why you were compelled here.”

“Do you think it will happen in our lifetime, my teacher?”

The man tilted his head, considering. “Who can say? We know not where the Voidking sleeps, only that it is not on this world. Perhaps with how quickly humanity is advancing space travel, we may stumble upon him between the stars ourselves…”

The boy’s gentle footsteps began again, headed back toward the door.

He paused as he prepared to slide it quietly shut and renew the man’s dutiful isolation.

“Farewell, High Priest Metphies.”

The man smiled again, eyes never leaving the Garbetrium crystal.

“I’ll see you later, Kaworu.”

Yoshito Chujo had been working maintenance on giant robots for years. He’d known MG-II inside and out. There was no machine more fascinating, after all, than a giant robot.

But this new project, the one that he got to help _build_ rather than just maintain?

This was something else.

It wasn’t done yet. The operating system was still far from functional, and the thing had to be assembled, of course, but the individual parts of the third Mechagodzilla were nearing complete construction. Without the mechanical muscle fibers and tendons to link them together, one could see the yellowed kaiju bones within each. Most striking was the robot’s chest, which had not been armored yet due to setbacks in the development of the Absolute Zero system. As such, the colossal ribcage of the long-dead Godzillasaur was exposed, and towered over everything in the construction facility.

Still, Yoshito wondered if such a strange, biomechanical creation was really worth the effort. It was designed to anatomically match an actual kaiju, giving it the full strength and mobility of the once-living creature it was built around, with tougher metal armor and a plethora of weapons. Undoubtedly more effective than MG-II, but undoubtedly far more expensive to build and repair.

Unless this “Kiryu” was capable of winning every fight it went into without sustaining so much as a dent, which Yoshito doubted, costs were going to pile up fast.

Then again, the mechanic supposed, MG-II had been utterly helpless against Godzilla’s resurgence. Costs be damned, they needed something that could match that kind of power. He’d nearly lost his grandfather in that attack, so he knew full well how urgent it was to have defenses in place.

Yoshito’s musings faded as he noticed something in the hall outside the construction hangar. The hall ran alongside the massive space so that the higher-ups could observe progress at a glance during their regular visits, so Yoshito and the other workers were used to seeing men in suits walking slowly past, nodding their heads in approval and so forth.

Today, though, the suits were escorting a man who looked quite out of place on this floor. He wore a ratty lab coat, and he kept stopping to press against the glass and stare at the partially-completed parts of Kiryu. One of his escorts eventually got tired of it and began to walk behind him to ensure he didn’t fall behind. That got a chuckle out of Yoshito, but he still couldn’t help but wonder who the man was. He had a few guesses, at least.

The man, one Tokumitsu Yuhara, also had a few guesses. The gigantic, pale bones he could see all over the hangar were kaiju-sized hints, even. Despite that, Yuhara couldn’t help wondering exactly how his small-time biology lab had caught the attention of the top brass of the JSDF itself.

When he was finally sat down in an empty conference room, Yuhara’s nerves only frayed further.

He couldn’t stop himself from tapping his foot on the ground while he waited anxiously, but the anxiety of waiting wasn’t worse than the wave of unease he felt when more men in uniform entered, taking seats opposite the long conference room table. Clearly decorated military men, the one in the middle folded his hands and met Yuhara’s eyes with a tired gaze.

“I take it you know who I am?”

“Ch-chief of Staff Igarashi, right?”

The older man nodded. “That’s right. As such, I’ve been overseeing this top-secret project, which you are now privy to whether you like it or not.”

“This project,” Yuhara said, “A third Mechagodzilla?”

“In a way,” replied Igarashi. “It’s quite a departure from our previous design, however. I’m sure you noticed the bones?”

Yuhara gulped, unnerved by the silence of the other two men. “Would be… hard not to. What’s their purpose?”

Igarashi smiled. “Bones generally only serve one purpose, Dr. Yuhara.”

“You’re building a cyborg, then,” Yuhara concluded. “One with mechanical muscle fibers meant to mimic the living flesh that used to connect to those bones?”

“Correct,” said Igarashi. “I’m surprised you gathered all that so quickly.”

Yuhara chuckled, having found a bit of nerve. “No you’re not. You know what I do. Not to mention the tech has been perfected in regards to humanoid anatomy with the PPDC’s Jaegers.”

Igarashi leaned forward. “I’ll cut to the chase then. We’ve hit a roadblock.”

“With the muscular structure?”

“No,” Igarashi said with a shake of his head, “With the AI.”

Dr. Yuhara felt a chill. “I beg your pardon?”

“When MG-II was taken down, we lost all but one pilot. With Kiryu, we don’t want that risk present. We want it to be able to fight mostly independently, with the only human element being a distant operator that can issue directives when necessary.”

Yuhara found himself intrigued. “Can any AI like that be created with current technology?”

Igarashi rubbed at his temples. “The PPDC says they’ve come close with that new “Jet Jaguar” thing, but we need something different. Non-human. It’s not like we can just drop the first Mechagodzilla’s AI into it either.”

“You still have that?” Yuhara blinked.

“Never mind,” grumbled Igarashi. “The point is, we need a proper AI to make sure Kiryu fights like the kaiju it technically used to be.”

All at once, it hit Yuhara. “Oh. I know why I’m here now.”

“We heard about your newer projects. Seeing as we have living bones here…”

“With all due respect, you don’t know what you’re messing with,” Yuhara spoke gravely. “Genetic memory is a new science, but what you’re talking about is borderline untested. DNA computers are-”

“Yet you created one,” interrupted Igarashi. “I read all about it.”

“Trilobites do not possess human-level intelligence,” Yuhara cried. “They don’t even have a fraction of the genetic material of a kaiju. What you’re asking me to do is not only incredibly experimental, but immoral.” 

“We only need it to possess the fighting instinct and experience of the original animal- Dagon, I believe MONARCH calls it. Leave higher processing to the AI engineers, whom you would be working very closely with.”

“I don’t really have a choice in this, do I? I’ve already seen and heard enough classified information for you to shoot me right here.”

Igarashi chuckled. “Or you could sign a non-disclosure agreement and leave. But you know how important Kiryu is, with all the kaiju waking up and the Breachers coming in higher numbers.”

“What’s a Breacher?” Yuhara said.

Igarashi made a face. One of the men flanking him sighed, shaking his head slightly.

“Never mind. Are you in, Dr. Yuhara?”

Yuhara leaned back in his chair, arms folded. “I assume I have to live on-site.”

“Naturally.”

Yuhara frowned. “I want accommodations big enough for both me and my daughter.”

Igarashi laughed good-naturedly. “Anything you need, you’ll have. This is one of the most important projects in the history of anti-kaiju weaponry. That, by extension, makes you important.”

“Great,” grumbled the biologist. “Always wanted to be famous.”

Mako practically sank into her pillow. PPDC accommodations weren’t luxurious by any means, but sometimes one just needed a moderately soft pillow when they were truly tired.

Piloting a Jaeger was tiring. Due to the link between the human body and the machine, moving it around and fighting was physically and mentally taxing. Normally it was the kind of fatigue someone could sleep off, and easily be well-rested by the next time a Breacher came a-breaching.

But as of late, they were coming _multiple times per day._

Mako could feel the tiredness in her very bones as she tried to drift off and get some sleep. The digital clock read three am. The time wasn’t the issue, but rather that she would only be able to get three hours of rest at most before her schedule dictated she be up and about.

The first Breacher alarm had gone off around eleven, a Cat Four out in the middle of nowhere. It had headed for Tokyo with all haste and been quickly torn apart by her and Raleigh in Gipsy Danger. Then, just an hour and a half later, _another,_ this time far closer to the Japanese mainland. Haruo and Yuko’s Vulture had dealt with that one handily as well.

But then there had come a third one, this one a flier, that had shown up between Skull Island and the west coast of South America. The thing hadn’t even considered challenging King Kong, and had promptly beelined for the Chile Shatterdome.

Mako had watched the live feed as the first Mark VI, the AI-piloted Jet Jaguar, had performed its maiden battle. The brightly painted machine, its face stylized into a toothy smile, had fought stiffly but effectively to easily ground the weak Breacher. Jet Jaguar’s movements had reminded Mako a bit of archival footage of the first Mechagodzilla, but she dismissed that as simply the nature of combat AI.

Before sleep could claim Mako, the alarm went off for a _fourth_ time.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said to herself, sitting up as the sound grated on her ears. Four in one night was unprecedented.

Despite her heavy limbs, Mako hurried to LOCCENT, where Marshal Aso and Raleigh watched the holographic map with shadowed eyes.

“Ranger Mori, reporting. What are we dealing with?”

Raleigh dragged his hand down his face. “I can hardly believe it.”

Mako frowned and pushed past him to look. Two dots near Iwo Jima, both Cat 4.

A third dot by the Aleutian Islands. It was a Category Five.

“Three at once?” Mako whispered, utter shock flooding her. “That’s never-”

The alarm tone cut her off, and her jaw dropped as a fourth dot, Category 5 like the Alaskan Breacher, popped up between New Zealand and Australia.

“What the hell is going on?”

Marshal Aso didn’t answer, focusing on his earpiece. “Yessir. We’ll send them both out. I’m more worried about Anchorage and Sydney, though.”

Mako turned to him. “Is that Fath- uh, Marshal Pentecost?”

Aso turned to her, his expression grave. “The Grand Marshal has ordered all Shatterdomes to KAICON 3. He’s contacted other kaiju defense agencies around the Pacific Rim, too.”

“He did what?” Raleigh asked in surprise. “Forget upping KAICON, if every defense force around the ocean mobilizes at once-”

“The time for secrecy has passed, Ranger Becket,” Aso cut him off. “Assuming that tonight’s uptick in Breaches is an outlier is a luxury we do not have. If this trend continues, we may have dozens in a single night.”

“This goes against every prior prediction, every graph of future Breaches,” pressed Mako. “There’s got to be a reason they’ve picked tonight to start coming in far greater numbers!”

“We can’t worry about that right now,” Aso said gruffly. “All we can do is defend the public like we always have… even if they’ll know about the Breacher threat after tonight.”

“Pentecost’s gonna have one hell of a press conference tomorrow,” Raleigh sighed. “I’ll go get suited up.”

“Me as well,” Mako added. “Talk to you soon, Marshal.”

Aso sighed. “Good luck, Rangers.”

After they had gone from LOCCENT, even as worry pervaded the atmosphere of the room, Aso added to himself, “It’s not you two who need it tonight, though…”

He watched the map with mounting unease as the big Cat Five dots moved on their targets.

The rest of the world discovered that morning that the Pacific Ocean was not so peaceful after all.

The Category Fours were nothing of note. Raleigh, Mako, Haruo, and Yuko had easily dispatched the pair by working together. It was the pair of Category Fives that made the news.

The one in the South Pacific quickly proved to be a flier. Designated Sahaquiel, the Breacher was more wings than anything else, 350 meters from wing tip to wing tip. The great appendages were also the _only_ appendages, both attached to a wormlike body dominated by a colossal, unblinking eye. It flew so fast that none of this was known about it until it had soared over Striker Eureka’s head and knocked down several Sydney high-rises with wind pressure alone. 

The gigantic, bizarre creature had flapped out of the Mark V Jaeger’s reach, forcing the Hansens to rely on projectile weapons to have even the slightest hope of hitting it. The Breacher had promptly surprised them with an energy beam from that titanic eye, knocking the mecha through another building. 

It was almost like Sahaquiel was toying with them, keeping just far enough away that the Jaeger would be unable to land a decisive blow. Meanwhile, every beat of its gigantic wings was another dozen casualties.

After an agonizing quarter of an hour, support arrived for the Rangers in the form of Mothra herself, who despite having smaller wings than Sahaquiel, possessed much more body mass.

And limbs.

She wrestled with the flying eye for under a minute before her forelimbs managed to stab it in the eye. As ocular fluid and a whole lot of acidic Breacher Blue poured from the wound, Sahaquiel decided it had had enough and, uncharacteristically for its kind, the Breacher retreated, flying too fast for Mothra to keep up with. 

The attack was practically over as quickly as it began. By First Age standards, damage and casualties were low, with just over 13,000 dead in the wake of Sahaquiel’s heaven-spanning wings.

It was in Anchorage, however, that disaster struck. The other Cat Five, designated Sandalphon, stomped across the Aleutians before diving into the icy ocean, beelining for the largest urban center of the barren state of Alaska.

The furthest north out of the many Shatterdomes, Anchorage had seen its fair share of Breachers over the seven years since they began appearing. However, it was utterly unprepared for something as mighty as a Category Five.

With Mothra indisposed and Manda in the middle of nowhere, kaiju help could not be counted on either.

Even so, they mobilized all three of their Jaegers to battle Sandalphon as it approached, swimming close to the seafloor. Sensors told them it was massive long before it arrived, but none of the six pilots of the three giant robots could have prepared themselves for what would emerge.

A monstrous crustacean-like monster, with more than a passing resemblance to the extinct _Anomalocaris,_ flattened one of the Jaegers with nothing but its initial surge from the water. Sandalphon was far larger than either of the remaining Jaegers, and in fact one of the largest kaiju on record, period. It made short work of the other two and turned its sights to the glittering lights of downtown Anchorage, a city of over 250,000.

By sunrise, that number was below 220,000, and a trail of devastation was all that indicated Sandalphon’s former presence in the city, as the colossus made its way southeast, into British Columbia.

Naturally, the general population of planet Earth was shocked that two creatures of such apparent power could come out of nowhere and considerably damage two cities on the same night. The reports of their strange, glowing blood complicated matters further. Were they aliens? Daikaiju of Godzilla’s ilk, awakened from aeons of slumber?

The answer, provided by Stacker Pentecost, Grand Marshal of the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps on a live broadcast, was far simpler than that, but significantly more disconcerting.

Addressing not world governments, for they already knew, but rather the populace, the man solemnly revealed the hidden truth of the Pacific rim.

“In 2012,” he began, wasting no time, “The first ones appeared. They were bizarre creatures, nowhere near as unstoppable as the kaiju we have come to know. But they were still deadly and tenacious. At first, the few active kaiju in the Pacific at the time, such as Manda, killed them before they could become threats.”

Stacker sighed, pausing for a moment. “However, they kept coming. These creatures tore their way free of the seafloor again and again, and though none made it even close to a populated shore, their number was cause for concern. They also varied in strength and size, so we created a ranking system for them, Category One being low level threats, and Category Five being extremely dangerous. Assuming that these ‘Breachers’, as we call them, were going to continue to appear in greater numbers, more frequently, the Pan-Pacific Defense Force was founded with the intention of keeping the Breachers at bay.”

Another pause as Marshal Pentecost adjusted his tie, silently imagining the uproar at his words. It was about to get worse.

“The cover for its existence was preparation for the return of the kaiju, but in reality the PPDC never even considered building machines of that effectiveness until 2018. For the past seven years, the sole purpose of Jaegers and their brave pilots have been to fight off the ever-increasing number of Breachers in relative secrecy, ensuring that those living around the Pacific Rim could rest easy.”

A breath. “But last night, for the first time, our line of defense was unable to hold up. The Breachers that attacked Sydney and Anchorage last night, codenamed Sahaquiel and Sandalphon, are part of Category Five, which, until very recently, was only theoretical. In recent weeks, we have seen three Category Fives. There were zero in the eight years prior.”

Stacker leaned on the podium, using his body language to convey the gravity of the situation.

“Category Fives are close to true kaiju in terms of size, strength, and durability. We don’t know why the most powerful Breachers have waited until now to show themselves, nor why more and more of them have been appearing more frequently. Preliminary theories suggest it has something to do with Godzilla’s return, but we are unsure.”

He sighed again.

“The time for transparency is now. We may be overreacting to this threat… or we may be grossly, disastrously unprepared to face it. We have no way to know how many Breachers remain buried, nor how many are Category Fives. But in the face of this unprecedented uptick in Breacher activity, we- along with all of the organizations dedicated to protecting the people from giant monsters- will be giving our all to ensure the events of last night do not occur again.”

The Marshal closed his eyes. Then, “Any questions?”

He randomly picked one of the dozens of hands. “You there.”

The reporter, a short Japanese woman, looked determined. “Do you know anything about the origin of these ‘Breachers’?”

“Analysis of recovered corpses has so far revealed that every single one of the Breachers is genetically identical, suggesting that they are unnatural monsters, and may have been manufactured by a precursor civilization such as Mu. Next question.”

“What does the PPDC plan to do about the monster currently on Canadian soil, moving south-southeast?”

Stacker nodded. “Sandalphon is being slowed by aerial bombardment courtesy of the Canadian and United States Air Forces. A joint-Shatterdome offensive is currently in the works to kill it. Additionally, intelligence suggests that the kaiju Megalon, currently in the Hollow Earth, is on a collision course with the Breacher.”

“Megalon is in Canada?!”

“He was detected near the surface within twenty kilometers of the Manitoba-Saskatchewan border,” Stacker replied, “With Sandalphon in British Columbia currently, projections indicate that Megalon is after a fight with it.”

Another hand, this time a scruffy American man. “If these Breachers were created and placed by a precursor civilization, have you considered searching the world’s known ruins for control mechanisms?”

“We have,” responded the Grand Marshal, “And have found nothing. Whichever society put them down there has seemingly scrubbed all records of anything like an army of genetically-engineered pseudo-kaiju. In light of the situation, however, we plan to redouble our efforts.”

Another American man. “Clark Kent, Daily Planet. Do you have any advice for residents of the Pacific Rim countries to prepare for the potential upcoming crisis?”

Stacker took barely a moment’s consideration. “There is only one thing you can do. Move inland.”

Deep beneath the crust of the Pacific Ocean, kilometers deeper even than the ruins of Mu, a great, hidden, energy-shielded cavern was lit by neon blue.

The System ran its checks, and found that the two Exterminators it had released hours prior still lived. It processed that data, ran it through the dozens of algorithms that would determine its next decision.

Things were proceeding as it had mathematically predicted. The next phase was to begin. 

The blue light intensified, and a signal was wired to one of the distant, dormant Death’s Wing nests. If the Exterminators were this effective, the dark fliers would prove downright lethal.

The System knew not that its creators were long dead. It knew not that the world above had changed drastically. It knew only its mission, which it had been carrying out for eight standard years since it reactivated. 

The only thing the System knew was its directive. Destroy and conquer. Obliterate and subjugate.

Painted red across the skyscraper-sized computer bank, ancient runes.

“GLORY TO MU”

The System, the engine of Mu’s long dead empire, continued on despite the state of its creators, its thousands of arms reaching deep into the crust, to the pockets containing each dormant Breacher. It took energy proportional to each one’s size to wake it, so the System could not wake them all at once. It was not designed to.

With the way things were shaping up above, though, it wouldn’t even need to wake them all.

Things were going exactly according to plan.

White eyes.

Featureless white eyes, staring blankly at nothing.

Shinji stared back.

“Hey, Unit-01.”

The fourteen-year-old boy received no response, though he’d come to expect that. The Evangelion before him, immobile as always, never said anything back during his visits that had lately become routine.

“I know you can’t respond or anything, but I wonder if you can still hear me in there.”

No response.

“Maybe they took your ears out when they… did this to you. I wonder what else…”

Shinji tilted his head, inspecting the still cyborg for any movement. As always, nothing.

“At the very least, I hope it doesn’t hurt when I pilot you. You don’t fight the controls, which might mean that’s true… or maybe you have no control at all?”

No reply, obviously.

Shinji sighed. “But then, what happened that day, against Gigan? Feels like it hasn’t been that long, but it was weeks ago. Does time pass for you, Unit-00?”

He imagined the green-purple weapon shaking its head from side to side. It almost made him crack a smile.

“Probably not. Sorry about last night, by the way.”

The boy’s eyes drifted to the gash in Unit-01’s armor where a Cat Four Breacher had caught him off guard during the previous night’s raid. Ever since Marshal Pentecost’s announcement two weeks ago, things had gone from bad to worse. The only silver lining was that the Breachers were not coming every night.

However, the nights that they did come, they came in droves. An average of a dozen, often in groups of two, and always at least one Category Five.

NERV could no longer afford to be passive in this endeavor, and was now actively assisting the PPDC and JSDF in combating the Breachers that targeted Japan. Even S.O.N.G.’s Symphogear wielders got in on the action when one of the Cat Fives made for Okinawa, as well as when Gigan swooped in from the exosphere to add his own brand of chaos to the melee.

That Category Five, Shamshel, had escaped the battle wounded but alive, and regrouped with its fellows Sahaquiel and Sandalphon, who were still at large despite their defeats. 

Generally, things were not going smoothly around the Pacific Ocean. There were a few bright spots, though. The Category Fives that had been slain since the Breacher Surge began were all disposed of long before they reached cities, and for that, they had none other than Godzilla himself to thank.

Drones had found him wrestling with a Cat Five named Israfel on a remote island that was barely big enough to fit the two monsters. After Israfel improbably split into two independent creatures, it was decidedly too small. Godzilla took his increased number of opponents in stride, and before long both identical Israfels were radioactive sludge, and the leviathan’s wounds were nearly closed. None of his other entanglements were photographed, as they occurred deep beneath the waves. Nobody knew why he was going out of his way to help them, but as the saying goes, don’t look a gift kaiju in the mouth.

Shinji supposed things could be a lot worse. The PPDC and other agencies were stretched thin keeping casualties to a minimum, but they were managing. Just barely.

“You’re talking to that thing again?”

Shinji deflated, not bothering to turn and address the newcomer as her steps clanked on the catwalk. “Hey, Asuka.”

“Honestly, I don’t get why you bother,” she continued without returning his greeting as she stepped into Shinji’s line of sight, “It’s just a hunk of metal.”

“And flesh,” Shinji reminded her.

Asuka folded her arms. “Yeah, so it’s biomechanical. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird that we have tech advanced enough for that?” muttered Shinji, “The Evas are way ahead of the Jaegers.”

Asuka shrugged. “Guess we’ve got more money? Better priorities? Who cares, idiot!”

Shinji’s brow furrowed. “I’ve been doing it because I don’t want my inaction to get people hurt, but… I don’t like piloting a living thing, Asuka.”

“I think it’s kinda neat.”

Shinji sighed. “You’re so fucked up.”

She rounded on him in an instant. “Wanna say that again so I can smack you, idiot Shinji?”

“Is this what they call a party?”

Shinji and Asuka were distracted by the third person present making herself known in quiet tones. Rei stood a polite distance away, posture straight and open as always. 

Asuka felt some of the heat leave her at the disruption. Still, she didn’t release the fabric of Shinji’s shirt balled in her fist. “What’s up, wonder-girl? Here to wave your Breacher kill-count in our faces?”

Rei tilted her head as she began her approach. “Have you been counting, Pilot Sohryu?”

Shinji glanced at the redhead. “ _Have_ you?”

Asuka let go, allowing the back of Shinji’s head to bonk into the catwalk. The impact wasn’t hard, but in the huge hangar, both it and Shinji’s sharp cry of “ow” echoed for a moment.

Then there was another sound, and all three children looked around to find that Unit-01 had ever-so-slightly turned its head.

Asuka blinked.

“I guess it _can_ hear us.”

“Chow time!~”

Maria suppressed her shock as best she could when their cell door, deep in the brig of S.O.N.G.’s mobile headquarters, slid aside to reveal none other than Hibiki Tachibana pushing their food cart. Chris and Tsubasa followed behind her, looking rather relaxed. The cuffs at their wrists automatically separated, becoming little more than drab bracelets for the time being.

“Why are you bringing the food today?” Shirabe asked, sitting up on her bed.

“We’re finally allowed to visit with the three of you directly,” Tsubasa supplied, “Since you’ve proved you’re not dangerous.”

“To who, dess?” Kirika chimed in, skipping over to the food cart.

“Japanese government,” said Chris. “Y’might be in S.O.N.G. custody, but we still answer to them.”

“Just the Japanese government?” Maria asked, “I’m shocked, considering the worldwide hubbub when the Symphogears’ existences were declassified.”

Tsubasa huffed. “The UN has been trying to bring us under their command ever since. Both the Commander and our friends in the Diet have blocked them every time, but there’s no telling how long that may last.”

“And what of Mom?” Maria pressed, trying to hide her nerves.

“Oh, Doc Nastassja?” Chris said, “Sorry, but I don’t think she’s gonna get off easy.”

“She’s... going to die here, then.”

Hibiki blinked. “Eh?”

“Mom has lung cancer,” Shirabe said quietly as she inspected the day’s food selection. “Stage Four. She’d be dead already if not for Dr. Ver’s miracle drugs… unless you know where he is, she probably doesn’t have long.”

“Oh,” Chris murmured after a long pause, “Well, shit. Sorry about that.”

Tsubasa sat at the cell’s dining table. “At any rate, she’s been just as cooperative as you three. We’ll have Jonah’s group neutralized in short order thanks to the information she’s provided.”

“That’s good to hear,” Maria replied, picking up a steaming plate of steak and roasted vegetables, “Any more news, besides what we’ve been allowed to learn? Things seem hectic out there.”

“Yeah, actually!” Hibiki exclaimed, beaming as she was known to do, “Kirika-chan and Shirabe-chan will be free to go as soon as we can set up living arrangements for them!”

“Really, dess?!”

Chris grinned. “Yep. Y’see, as it turns out, even though you were on the wrong side, you never actually directly helped them to cause the kaiju attacks. Not to mention you two fought Gigan…”

“And _you_ helped me fight Kamacuras’s swarm,” Tsubasa added, pointing at Maria. “Not to mention saving people at the attacks before then. S.O.N.G.’s top brass _and_ the government reviewed all the information we had, and came to an interesting conclusion.”

“And that is?” Shirabe asked between forkfuls of salad.

Hibiki put her hands on her hips and leaned forward, smile even wider than before. “You three worked _against_ Jonah more than you worked _for_ him! Isn’t that great?”

Maria nodded. “That’s all well and good, but doesn’t the general public still believe me, in particular, to be a terrorist at the moment?”

“They do. But someone from the UN is going to be around to interview you personally about that.”

 _The UN,_ Maria thought distastefully. _What could they want with me after what they tried to do… and what I did to those men?_

“What’s with the face?” Chris asked her, jolting her from her introspection, “The food taste wonky or somethin’?”

Maria shook her head. “Oh, on the contrary, it’s delicious. Everything we’ve eaten here has been.”

“Chef Emiya will be delighted to hear that,” Tsubasa replied with a small smile. “No matter how much we tell him that his cooking is great, he keeps pushing himself harder. It’s almost self-destructive, frankly.”

“Sound like anybody we know?” Chris joked dryly.

Tsubasa looked around the cell. “Who?”

Chris buried her face in her hands. Maria just giggled, which caused further puzzlement to cross Tsubasa’s features.

“At any rate, I’m happy to hear it’s to your liking. All three of you were underweight according to the medical checks we had you go through.”

“Food was scarce with Jonah’s people,” Shirabe admitted, toying with a crouton. “Lots of military rations and convenience-store junk that Kiri-chan and I had to go get for them because we’d be least suspicious.”

Kirika shuddered, causing some soup to drop back into the bowl from her spoon. “298 yen, dess…”

“All of their funds were focused on equipment,” Maria added, “Even my earnings as an idol were appropriated and used by them… I haven’t a penny to my name at the moment.”

“Assuming everything goes smoothly from here, money won’t be an issue for ya,” Chris reassured her, “I had literally only the clothes on my back before these jerks took me in.”

“Ah reshemt rhat(I resent that)!” Hibiki cried around a colossal mouthful of rice, evidently having decided that it was time for her to eat, too. After chewing and swallowing it all inhumanly quickly, she followed up, “Tsubasa-san and I were never mean to you!”

“You both beat the crap outta me! On separate occasions!”

“I never _wanted_ to!”

Maria turned to Tsubasa. “Are they always like this?”

Tsubasa nodded. “Pretty much. I think it’s how they show affection. Now finish your food, you need the calories.”

“Tsubasa, I’m fine.”

“You’re skin, muscle, and bones, Maria. Without any fat to burn off it’s no wonder you’re so… er, muscular.”

Maria noticed her trail off and felt some teasing coming on. “Is there a problem with my muscles, Tsubasa?”

The self-proclaimed sword gulped. “Not at all.”

Then, Maria had a realization and felt her teasing bravado vanish. She stood up, her own cheeks coloring. “You’re trying to fatten me up, aren’t you?!”

Tsubasa looked taken aback. “What?”

“Nice try, but I’ll run laps around this cell to burn it off if I have to!”

“What are you talking about, Maria? Your BMI is-”

“No more excuses!”

Kirika made a bemused face. “What are they yelling about?”

“Best not to question it, Kiri-chan,” Shirabe answered. “Just enjoy your soup. Both of us are a bit thin, too.”

“Ah!” Hibiki exclaimed, pointing at the pink-haired woman. “I get it, Maria-san! You’re insecure about your weimmnghf.”

The Gungnir wielder was unable to finish her sentence properly courtesy of Chris clamping a hand over her mouth, but the damage was already done.

Maria rubbed at her temples, then sat before her plate again.

“What am I supposed to do when this stuff’s even better than concert catering?” she muttered to herself.

A few days later, Maria was indeed called to leave the cell, and taken to what resembled a visiting room. She was not cuffed, but a pane of presumably tough glass kept her from trying anything directed at the person on the other side. Not that she wanted to try anything of the sort, but she couldn’t fault their caution, all things considered. 

She only had to wait a short while before a man in a suit walked in, his eyes hidden by sunglasses. He carried a folder under one arm, and while his attire demanded attention, his slouched posture did not.

He sat heavily on the other side of the glass and leaned back in his seat with a deep sigh before finally addressing her. “Maria Cadenzavna Eve, age 22, 185 centimeters tall, country of birth: Ukraine…”

“Present,” Maria replied shortly.

“No need for the tone, I don’t wanna be here either.” the man replied. “You publicly outed yourself as an ecoterrorist on live television about six weeks ago. Am I correct?”

Maria took a deep breath. “Yes.”

“You then proceeded to commit zero acts of terrorism beyond holding a concert audience hostage for… three minutes. Am I correct?”

“Y-yes?” replied Maria, taken aback by his casual manner. “What are you getting at, Mr…?”

“My name’s not important. What is important is that your statements corroborate with eyewitness accounts of you doing absolutely nothing that could be considered acts of terrorism.”

Maria could hardly believe what she was hearing. “But… what about…?”

“Yeah, you killed a couple guys up in the Skytree,” the agent said. “Sucks, but from what I heard you acted in self-defense. You ask me, those dudes were out of line. Obviously anyone dying is tragic or whatever, but evidence and several people vouching for you has convinced me and my superiors that you are not a cold-blooded killer.”

“What does this entail?”

The man picked up and waved the folder. “With this, we can construct a convincing cover story for you to redeem you in the eyes of the general public. The way the UN sees it, you were an infiltrator on our behalf, working to sabotage Jonah’s little operation from within. I guess the second part is just true, huh?”

“Why are you offering me this out?”

“Like I said, you’ve got some people we trust in your corner. Don’t think you’re just getting off scot-free, though.”

Maria folded her arms. “Explain.”

“You need to do some community service. You have insider knowledge of a lot of classified information thanks to Jonah and his little band of merry men… we want you as a UN informant.”

“You want me to work with you?” Maria scoffed. “Audacious, to say the least.”

“Other than your obligations to us, you’d be a free woman,” the man chided. “I wouldn’t let this opportunity go to waste, especially if you want to get back onstage as an idol.”

The woman stood at that. “Is that really possible?”

For the first time, the UN agent smiled. “Sure, if you’re willing to cooperate. Whattya say, Miss Eve?”

Mothra realized she hadn’t been here in a while.

The last time she had, she had been much smaller, easily capable of fitting down the tunnel with her wings spread wide. Now she was forced to tuck them behind her, lest they scrape the rocky sides and impede her journey.

Much had changed since her last trip to the Tree. She wished she could just fly down to speed up the process- walking, despite her surplus of legs, had never appealed to her- but flight here was impossible.

She rounded the last bend into the immense cavern, and found her breath stolen away at the sight of it. No matter how many times she saw the place, that never changed.

Stretching at least a mile high from the floor to the ceiling, a great blue-green tree with uncountable branches dominated the chamber, pulsing softly. All around it was hard and unforgiving rock and bubbling pools of magma, yet somehow this impossible tree persisted. 

This was the Tree of Life. The humans, after Mothra showed it to a small band of them, passed its existence into their own myths and legends, and eventually, it came to be called Yggdrasil. For hundreds of millions of years, it had been nourished and grown to its current immense size by the divine moths, and all young kaiju were encouraged to visit it at least once before reaching adulthood.

Evidently, few had done so in recent millions. The only recent tracks in the earth were familiar, wide and clawed, leading toward the foot of the tree, near where the roots drew geothermal power from the Earth’s mantle.

His shadowy form silhouetted against the massive tree, almost amusingly tiny before it, stood Godzilla. He turned to her as she entered, and at such a distance she could not tell if they were making eye contact.

So Mothra stepped all the way into the chamber, shook out her stiff wings, and took flight, gliding gracefully on the warm air until she landed a fair distance away from the nuclear reptile. He said nothing as she approached.

She broke the silence between them by commenting on how she had forgotten just how beautiful it was.

No reply

And then, at length, his exhausted response. Asking her which of those innumerable branches she thought might represent the humans. _  
_

She looked at him. His face was upturned, orange eyes staring intently at the dense canopy of glowing branches high above.

After thinking a moment, she replied. Mothra told him that it didn’t really matter which one the humans might be. She told him that what mattered was that they were a part of the tree, like every other living thing on Mother Earth.

Godzilla snorted, his eyes never leaving the glowing mass. He reminded her that he was older than she was, and knew that better than anybody. He commented that, all things considered, if a branch up there were to properly represent the humans it would be rotting, infecting the rest of the Tree.

Mothra conceded that fact. It was undeniable that the human race had wrought great damage on the Earth in the past three centuries alone. But she stressed to Godzilla that, aeons ago, they and their fellow kaiju had not been too different.

He nodded. The event the humans called the Great Dying had largely been the fault of the first kaiju. And yet, the damage to the planet from that had still taken far longer to inflict than this.

With a tired sigh, Godzilla asked Mothra where they went wrong. At that, she, too, turned to gaze into Yggdrasil’s glittering canopy.

She admitted that she did not know.

But she also expressed her hope that they could try again together.

Godzilla drew the comparison between that and the human pup’s statement. The human word “try”. He was going to “try”.

Trying, he found, was exhausting. Protecting the humans from the shades of their ancestors’ mistakes was exhausting. He was powerful, but he was just one kaiju.

The language of the kaiju, of the old gods, is vastly different from our concept of words and vernacular. But, sometimes, very, very rarely, their words and feelings can be simplified.

I’m tired, Mosura, Godzilla said.

Me too, Mothra replied.

I’m sorry, he said.

I forgive you, she responded.

He turned his burning eyes at last from the Tree, and looked down into hers with a tenderness she had not seen in a long time. He relaxed his muscles and leaned forward, bracing his weight on his arms and legs. With a slow gentleness that belied Godzilla’s ferocious appearance, the nuclear leviathan lowered himself down to rest. His long tail curled around as he wiggled a little to get comfortable on the hot earth.

This was vulnerability, something Mothra had not seen from him in twenty thousand years. Not since their feud over their continued responsibilities regarding humankind. That fight had been violent enough that she had worried the rift between them would never close.

But, despite his stubbornness, this looked to be a peace offering of sorts. Something she had seen many, many times over hundreds of millions of years. A return to normalcy between the two daikaiju.

After a bit, she climbed over his tail and rested her smaller, fluffy body next to him. She draped one wing over the mighty spines, and sharp though they were, they did not scratch off a single of her scales.

Neither of them were asleep, but they needed no further words. Both of them were thinking the same thing anyway.

No matter the difficulties that awaited in these tumultuous times, at least now they could once again face them together.

Another week passed, and the situation in the Pacific worsened even as investigations into the Breachers’ origins followed what leads they could find to abrupt ends. The PPDC, NERV, and SONG were stretched thin keeping casualties as low as possible in the battle with the Breachers, which was quickly becoming a crisis. A crystalline asteroid and a spacecraft containing Martian samples both drew closer to their destination of Earth.

Most of this was observed by one individual. One being who had grown accustomed to living on the down-low, who sensed the happenings of the world passively, biding their time.

Soon there would be no need for that any longer.

They thought of their accomplice, so much younger than them. So much more eager to act. But patience was a virtue, the observer had learned. Their waiting had paid dividends; all of its own accord, the world had thrown itself into chaos.

A chaos that they would contribute to, and subsequently resolve forever.

“What do you feel?” asked their accomplice.

_They continue to struggle with the creations of the Muans._

“Have they not found the source yet?” their accomplice scoffed, derision in their every syllable. “I’m almost tempted to solve this problem for them, just to showcase how far below us they are.”

_Patience, my Cosmos. Our time to act approaches, and fast._

“How soon?”

_I will let you know. In the meantime, see to final preparations._

“You refer to… those four? I wish there was a way to do this without using them…”

_I know you do. Turning them into tools reminds you of the better days._

Their accomplice shook their head, not as if saying no, but as if to clear it. “They are among the memories I refuse to let go.”

_That is fine. To lose your humanity whilst pursuing our goal would be an unfortunate turn of events._

Their accomplice snorted. “How ironic, coming from you.”

_I suppose it is. Now, should you not get to work?_

“I should, yes. Cloning is no simple task."

_Perhaps enlist the help of-_

Their accomplice rounded on them, anger on their features. “ _That_ will have no further involvement in this plan than it already does. Not even you can change my mind on that.”

_Very well._

After their accomplice had gone, the observer resumed their observation.

Centuries of waiting would normally be nothing to them. But with their accomplice at their side, that time had… stretched, somehow. The idea that they would put their plan in motion soon, after so much careful preparation, stirred genuine excitement in the observer’s chest.

_Soon, Mother Earth. You need only suffer a short while longer._

  
**CHAPTER XX: Whatever Tomorrow Brings**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for ending the month-long wait (again) with a slow, dialogue/exposition chapter. MothZilla isn't a romantic pairing the traditional sense, but dammit those kaiju are married. Unlike most of the ones that come before, this chapter contains several timeskips within itself, as a way for me to pass a couple months in-universe between the end of the last arc and the beginning of this new one.  
> What kind of arc will it be? Well, let's just say I've been internally calling it "The New Age of Monsters GX" since the early planning phases. But if you think this will be a close retelling of Symphogear GX like the first arc was with G, you're in for a surprise. Quite a few of them, in fact.  
> In other news, 2,000 hits. Holy shit. Thank you all so much for the support! Every kudo is like a dopamine shot, and I'm pretty sure that getting a new comment notification is better than sex.  
> Stay safe out there, see you all next time, when I kick things into gear (no pun intended).


	21. CHAPTER XXI: Brother From A Mirrored Mother

_ “Alien kaiju like the first Mechagodzilla, as well as whatever Dogora was, have sparked renewed interest in space travel among Earth’s many nations. Though the Cold War fizzled out quickly due to the increasing apparence that peace would be needed to battle the kaiju, the space race between the United States and Russia still occurred. After that, most innovation was focused on weapons to combat the giant monsters. In this time of relative quiet, though, space programs all over the world are starting up again, in order to further explore the final frontier.” _

**-Newspaper article dated to 2003.**

  
  


**> ’** **The New Age of Monsters‘ <**

  
  


In the past, watching the skies was generally considered to be boring work. After Dogora floated down over eastern Europe like a bizarre space jellyfish in 2001, not much else of note fell to Earth. For the astronomers in the world’s observatories, it became a rather droll job of watching distant asteroids that would never hit Earth, or close ones that were too small to actually do anything.

Then they watched Gigan tear through space faster than most meteors, only to slow upon entering the upper atmosphere. They barely had time to get a warning to the authorities in Japan, but in the end they’d gotten their jobs done.

Now they watched the skies intently, waiting for the next alien invader.

When a distant, hundred-meter asteroid suddenly got much brighter in their telescopes, they wondered what was going on.

When its orbit began to shift into a smaller, tighter ellipse around the Earth, they knew something was off. Though 100 meters was little cause for concern in terms of damages, the asteroid’s behavior was fishy, leading some among them to speculate that a spacefaring kaiju had knocked it toward them deliberately. They also knew it wasn’t Gigan, because they could always see him lurking close to the planet, around artificial satellite distance.

As they nervously watched the unnatural approach of the object over the span of a month, they wrestled with informing the wider world.

When it improbably settled into a consistent orbit just outside that of the International Space Station, they breathed a sigh of relief, believing their decision was made for them. At such a close distance, they were able to repeatedly get high-resolution images of it, revealing an enormous, jagged ovoid of light purple crystal.

Then, after two weeks, it veered sharply toward the surface of the Earth.

All by itself, though Gigan had inspected it from a few dozen kilometers away before.

Completely of its own accord, the asteroid stopped orbiting the Earth and entered its upper atmosphere over Japan.

The calls went out, but it was far too late.

The meteor descended slowly, all things considered, but still slammed into Okinawa Island with enough force to cause a localized earthquake.

Though the crystalline meteorite fortunately landed in the northern part of the island, everyone on Okinawa saw it fall.

As the sky-watchers called it in to more and more agencies, they realized the cat was out of the bag.

Awareness returned, bringing darkness with it.

A quick systems check confirmed that its eyes were working fine, and there was simply no light in its chamber.

Ancient mechanisms creaked and groaned as it lifted one foot and kicked open the wall, sending hundreds of tons of rock crashing into the waves. A great clawed hand reached out and widened the new opening, and once there was enough space it took a step out of the cliff into the shallows.

When it almost lost its balance, it ran another systems check. It was operating at 68 percent efficiency. Moderate damage. It had not been repaired since its last battle.

King Caesar visually inspected its damage even as its audio receptors picked up the cries of nearby humans, evidently having noticed its emergence. The humans that had worked to keep it functional in the past were, it seemed, nowhere to be found. Unfortunate.

The golem-kaiju’s primitive AI marked that information as important, and added a directive to avoid damage where possible, as repairs were no longer a guarantee. It would need to be more careful than it had been while combating the silver invader.

Despite its damage, King Caesar moved with remarkable agility to climb the cliff, just over twice as high as it was, and face Okinawa’s indland.

Smoke rose into the sky, obscuring whatever’s impact had awoken the golem. What Caesar could see, however, were peculiar purplish crystals sticking out of the ground, higher than the treetops in places. Its sensors detected energy within them, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. Even as King Caesar watched, a wavering current of power connected two nearby crystals, transferring energy back and forth. Communicating.

All of the crystals were humming, too, a familiar yet alien sound, much louder within the smoke’s shroud. It was a mix of sounds Caesar had recorded before, but jumbled together far too haphazardly for the ancient guardian’s logic center to identify them separately.

Still, Caesar added a new directive and dropped to all fours. Its bad ankle became far less of an issue with the added support of its front limbs. The guardian’s lion characteristics were front-and-center with its four-legged gait, and it was able to close the distance to the nearest crystal in a few earth-shaking bounds. Despite being relatively small, Caesar’s stony makeup made it far heavier than most kaiju its size.

Closer to the crystal, Caesar observed the peculiar thing once more, making notes of every abnormal reading it provided.

It was then that a spark of energy jumped from it, directly into the stone shisa’s gemstone eye. After a split second’s delay, Caesar’s other eye emitted that same energy back to the crystal, forming a closed circuit of power. Convenient. This would allow its systems to gather even more data on the crystals’ energy.

As King Caesar’s logic center began computations, though, ignoring the sound of the humans’ flying machines, it received an alert. Its own energy was being siphoned off by the crystal steadily. Not quickly enough to be dangerous, but it was still an undesirable occurrence.

Caesar switched on a few systems, and the flow of power reversed as Caesar’s own energy-providing crystals began to draw on the alien one’s reserves. Before long the ancient guardian was at capacity. It needed to burn off the excess power.

The soil split around it, chunks of rock rising from the ground, borne aloft by the unique energies of King Caesar’s power core. The boulders slammed against its body, the energy perfectly carving the rock to patch holes in armor, to bolster a damaged ankle. Before long it looked as though Mechagodzilla had never even damaged it.

The energy was still flowing, and Caesar’s systems check reported 100% efficiency. There had been enough power in this single crystal to fully recharge the golem and fuel its emergency self-repair directive, an action that would normally drain more than half of King Caesar’s stored energy.

The mighty shisa broke the closed circuit with a blink of its stony eyelids and rose into its bipedal stance once again, operating more smoothly than it had in millennia. These odd crystals, partially organic just like the guardian’s own, were a boon to Caesar. 

Even if they were indicative of a potential new threat to the island of Okinawa, and the world.

Dr. John Wayne Vercingetorix felt like a brand new man. Brand new kaiju? For the past month or so, he had technically been both. Regardless, his experiences since injecting himself with G-Cells and fleeing that underground battlefield had been almost as transformative as the effects of the cells on his body.

After making his escape from the great cavern, Ver had struck out into the depths of the Hollow Earth, hobbling along the rough, uneven ground even as his shoulder burned and his body’s immune response fought the G-cells. Still, anywhere was better than a battleground between superpowered humans and brawling daikaiju. Being beyond human, the previously un-athletic doctor was far more confident in his ability to survive in one of Earth’s most inhospitable environments.

He collapsed after about two hours.

The madman just rested there for a while, the earth hot against his cheek, as he waited for strength to return to his limbs (besides the mutated, scaly arm). That never happened, and instead the pain grew worse and worse until Ver came to the impression that he’d miscalculated, and these cells were going to kill him.

Then, through the fog, he became aware that he was moving. Not very much, but every couple of seconds, he felt his body shift a few inches. He was being jostled, but by what?.

It wasn’t long before the jostling became more violent, and Dr. Ver’s pain-addled mind came to a rather obvious conclusion: these tunnels were often traveled by kaiju. What was shifting his prone form around was the impact of great footfalls approaching. 

At last, his ears were greeted with curious clicking and rumbling, sounds often attributed to Rodan. The underground heat going from uncomfortable to stifling was another good indicator that the fiery pterosaur was upon him. Imagine the doctor’s shock, however, when Rodan’s massive claws gently pinched his lab coat and lifted him into the air by it. The madman barely managed to grab hold of his laptop with his Godzilla-hand.

The delicate way Rodan lifted Ver to eye level would’ve amused the doctor any other day, but at that moment he had been too worried at the prospect of the firebird tossing him into his mouth like a little mammalian grape.

He  _ had  _ ended up in Rodan’s beak, but not as food. Instead the King of the Skies had set Ver on his tongue, leaving his mouth open for the doctor’s breathing purposes. Ver was gobsmacked that Rodan would go out of his way to take a human wherever he was going, but it was better than dying on that tunnel floor, so he decided to just appreciate the gesture regardless of Rodan’s intent.

It smelled  _ terrible  _ in there, though.

Ver had to pinch his nose shut with his one working set of fingers, and he was still so wracked by pain that he couldn’t even sit up and look out to see where Rodan was headed. Overall, not his most enjoyable travel experience.

_ Why me,  _ he wondered.

_ You tried to sic all the kaiju on billions of innocents,  _ what remained of his conscience answered. 

“I thought I got rid of you a long time ago,” Ver groaned at his conscience, aloud this time. Rodan, by virtue of his kaiju-level senses, heard every word and absently wondered if the human was talking to him.

Hours passed, and at last, Ver found himself disgustingly sliding down Rodan’s tongue. Another thoroughly unpleasant experience, compounded by the fact that when he fell off it, he was still quite high in the air. Above water, certainly, but from a sufficient height that hitting it would still most definitely hurt.

He couldn’t even move enough of his body to dive in properly, and instead made use of his one good arm to fling his damaged laptop toward the edge of the underground lake. It would survive that impact, but a swim would have put it out of commission.

Dr. Ver hit the water in one of the most ungraceful belly-flops in human history. Even Rodan winced at the sight, all too familiar with the sensation himself.

Ver screamed at the stinging pain and, despite his three limp limbs, clawed at the water with his mutant arm. Its great strength brought him to the surface quickly, and the madman was even quicker to direct his fury at the titanic pterosaur that was leaning over him.

“IMBECILE!” Ver screamed up at Rodan even as he tried to keep his head above the water, “All that work to keep me alive in your filthy maw just to drop me from fifty feet in the air?!”

Rodan leaned down closer, swinging his great head to the side to peer at Ver with one vibrant blue eye. Despite the situation, Ver was stricken by how, for a pterosaur, the flying titan’s head was really quite birdlike.

Then Rodan’s scaly knuckle pushed his head back under the water.

When Ver came back up, spluttering, Rodan’s ruddy scales were still hovering just above the water’s surface, his eye narrowed at the tiny human. “What’s the big idea, you-”

He was pushed back under again.

This repeated about a dozen times, with Rodan allowing just wide enough a window between each dunk for Ver to put oxygen in his lungs.

When Rodan finally pulled back, and Ver was allowed to remain above the lake’s surface for more than a couple of seconds, he let loose with every expletive in the English language. He also threw in a few in Japanese, Chinese, Russian, German, and even a bit of Houtua for spice. As Rodan gave him a look that could easily be interpreted as “Are you done?”, the stream of vitriol from Ver’s mouth died when he noticed that he was properly treading water, with all four limbs functioning. His shoulder, where the black scales had stopped their spread, even hurt less.

Ver looked down at himself, then up at Rodan, momentarily lost for words. At length, he offered, “Thank you?”

Rodan chuffed and rose onto his hind legs, spreading out his wings to their full span of 290 meters and taking off with a single powerful movement. It was then that Ver took the opportunity to look around, and he was awed.

This cavern was even bigger than the one he had fled from. Or perhaps they were of similar size, and the difference lay in how this one was dominated by unspoiled wildlife rather than an ancient human city. There was an entire forest down here, there was soft soil and rough rock in equal measure, even a strip of sand at the shore of the warm lake Ver was swimming in. There was a lava-fall coming from the ceiling too, one that Rodan took no small delight in flying directly through. At the titan’s joyous vocalization, Anguirus’s head rose from the trees, shortly followed by his great spiked back.

Ver had then made a frantic break for the shore and his laptop, because he’d been given an opportunity few kaijuologists had the pleasure of receiving.

He would get to live among kaiju.

The mad scientist spent the next month or so getting adjusted to living in one of the most extreme wildernesses on, or rather  _ in,  _ the planet. He’d definitely have died without his enhanced physiology.

Something in the lake’s water- minerals, radiation, Ver wasn’t sure- kept his body from tearing itself apart. He was still in nearly constant pain due to the war being waged between his immune system and the G-cells, but said war’s near-stalemate worked wonders for him. His mighty Godzilla-fied arm meant he could defend himself from anything that wasn’t significantly more massive than him, which in turn guaranteed him a consistent food source. Unsurprisingly, the meat of the Hollow Earth’s dinosaurs tasted quite like chicken.

As time passed, and the occasional G-cell slipped past Ver’s white blood cells, parts of him gradually became more and more kaiju-ish. His teeth grew the slightest bit sharper, his senses enhanced themselves, and, concerningly, he felt protrusions from his spine beneath the skin. 

Undoubtedly the precursors to dorsal spines.

The boosted senses were a great boon, though. The subtle alterations to his brain and the way it processed sensory input allowed him to understand Rodan and Anguirus, to a degree. Godzilla, on the other hand, who made very occasional appearances in the cavern, he could practically hold  _ full conversations  _ with. The nuclear leviathan, though disgusted by Ver’s existence at first, had been convinced not to step on the human by the other two kaiju. After that Godzilla grew to at least tolerate him, perhaps out of a sense of begrudging kinship. It was a curious relationship, to be sure.

The boosted senses also meant Ver was dimly aware of what was going on topside. The Breachers, and humanity’s increasing desperation as more and more of the artificial kaiju swarmed their cities.

He also sensed the presence within the meteorite that struck Okinawa. Ver had been rather enjoying a soak at the shores of the lake when it happened, but the bizarre feeling it gave him prompted the scientist-turned-wildman to reach for his somehow still functional laptop and see if its weak sensors picked up anything.

To his surprise, they did. Very few types of signals were strong enough to be picked up at that distance by the laptop’s sensors.

Dr. Ver paled as his laptop’s screen displayed a very faint Aufwachen waveform.

“ Shénshòujìng, huh?” he mused aloud, “They might just be fucked up there.”

“What is the situation, Captain Katsuragi?”

Misato turned away from the screen to face Commander Ikari. “Meteorite impact at Okinawa. No tsunami warnings have gone out, but reports of anomalous readings are coming in from all over the place. Something’s weird about that meteorite, sir.”

“Anomalous how?” Gendo asked, leaning forward, mildly intrigued.

Misato frowned. “You’re not gonna believe this, but it’s emitting bioacoustics. Somehow, that thing’s alive.”

Gendo blinked. “Why would I not believe that? Gigan dropped out of space a scant couple of months ago.”

“Gigan’s not a rock, Rokubungi,” came the quiet, old voice of the only man bold enough to use Gendo’s birth name.

“Professor Fuyutsuki,” Gendo replied, not even looking at the other man as he moved next to his desk. “Maybe you could shed some light on this bizarre situation?”

“A living meteorite, hmm?” Fuyutsuki observed, “Well, organic-mineral compounds aren’t exactly new, are they?”

Gendo smiled; a rare occurrence. “Ah, you mean-”

He was unable to finish his statement, as Maya shouted from her desk. “King Caesar is being reported to be active near the impact site! He has not been seen since 1974!”

Fuyutsuki let out a dry chuckle. “Well, there you go.”

Gendo raised his voice to give an order. “I want our sensors pointed at that meteorite as well. Let’s try and deduce what it is  _ before  _ it gets up and starts attacking.”

“You believe it will?” Fuyutsuki asked, leaning in a bit closer.

“The first Mechagodzilla in 1974. Then, recently, Gigan. Now, this anomaly. The Japanese Archipelago attracts extraterrestrial kaiju like moths to flame. I believe it has something to do with population density.”

“That and our tectonic position.”

Gendo nodded. “Most likely. The planet itself makes more energy than any living thing on it… and plate boundaries are where that ‘leaks out’, so to speak.”

“Readings are in,” Makoto Hyuga cried. “Running comparisons to all recorded kaiju frequencies… what the hell?!”

“What is it?” demanded Misato, shoving her way over to peer at his screen.

The blood left her face at the display.

It read: 89% MATCH - GODZILLA

“That’s not possible,” Misato whispered even as Hyuga sent the readings to the big screen at the front of the command deck. That drew gasps from all present bar Gendo.

“Another Godzilla, hmm?” he murmured, quiet enough that only Fuyutsuki heard. “A mimic, or did genetic material somehow find its way into space… did him and Gigan have an entanglement that we didn’t hear about?”

“We know immediately every time he breaches the atmosphere, so I doubt that,” Fuyutsuki chuckled. “Perhaps there’s something we haven’t thought of?”

Gendo pinched his chin for a moment, then called out to his subordinates. “Is there anything coming in besides Godzilla’s bioacoustic frequency?”

“No, sir,” Aoba reported.

“Look closer,” ordered the Commander. “An 89% match means the other 11% of that sound is different. Isolate that.”

All three of the support staff took to their keyboards. Working as one, it took all of thirty seconds for them to come up with something.

“It’s… definitely a sound,” Maya said.

Hyuga rubbed at his temple. “Not a kaiju’s bioacoustic frequency exactly, but similar enough to mix into it.”

“The waveform is like nothing I’ve ever seen,” Aoba muttered, putting said waveform on the big screen alongside that of the combined frequency being emitted by the meteorite. Isolated from the Godzilla sound, the other sound’s waveform was bizarre, forming distinct shapes that Gendo couldn’t make sense of.

And when something kaiju-related made no sense to Gendo Ikari, he knew there were only a few people to turn to for answers.

He decided to call the one he hated least.

After four rings, the other person picked up.  _ “Genjuro Kazanari speaking.” _

“Kazanari,” Gendo began, not planning to mince words, “We’ve got some odd acoustic readings coming from a meteorite that struck Okinawa. I assume your people have a read on it as well.”

_ “Yes, we’ve made the comparisons. Whatever that thing is, it’s emitting a faint Aufwachen waveform, same as our Symphogears. One of them, in particular.” _

“What have you lot been up to lately?”

_ “There might have been a stray laser beam involved. We’re looking into it.” _

“You’d best,” Gendo intoned, “This is your playing field, Kazanari. I’m not sending my assets in against something with an unfamiliar power backing it.”

_ “As much as I’d love to help, MONARCH poached two of my three girls yesterday. They’re halfway to Africa by now to go on an expedition into the Sahara. Bodyguard duty.” _

“You sent the bulk of your forces  _ away  _ from the Pacific Rim despite the current situation?”

_ “It was their call. Evidently the two of them think you and the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps have things locked down, at least for now.” _

“For now. At any rate, I want as much intel on this creature’s power as you can offer me. My assets have never fought anything like a Symphogear.”

On the other end, Genjuro chuckled.  _ “They haven’t fought Godzilla either, have they? I’d sit this one out, Gendo-kun.” _

“I’ve told you not to call- enough. I’ve no time for your buffoonery, Kazanari. Send the intel.”

Gendo hung up with a little more aggression than normal.

“How a man like that is in charge of anything, I’ll never know,” the Commander of NERV growled. “Fuyutsuki, get the children. I’m sending the Evas to Okinawa as soon as possible.”

The older man sighed. “Of course, Commander.”

“Wait!”

Both men turned to behold Misato, eyes fiery as she stared at them.

“You’re actually sending them out to fight this thing, when we know it’s like Godzilla?!”

“That’s correct,” Gendo nodded. “Are you questioning my orders, Captain?”

Misato gritted her teeth, biting back words she would regret.

Then, “I’m going too.”

“Commander, we just got a report from the MONARCH Outpost at Fuji- Yamata-no-Orochi is on the move!”

“France as well- Baragon just dug straight into a major Hollow Earth highway and is moving fast!”

Two cries, within seconds of each other, told the story of an increasingly complicated situation.

“Has MONARCH provided us with their heading?” Fuyutsuki called.

“Baragon is following existing Hollow Earth pathways, but Orochi appears to be headed in a straight line through the ground… toward Okinawa.”

“Is it going to fight that crystal thing?” Misato wondered aloud as the eight-headed snake’s trajectory popped up on their big map, “I know it’s been on our side in the past, but it’s never strayed too far from the mountain.”

“And Baragon’s only been active for what, a month?”

Gendo made a contemplative noise, then spoke only for Fuyutsuki’s ears. “Mothra is sure to follow, no? With Baragon revealing itself, the legend of the three Guardian Monsters seems to be true.”

“Perhaps,” replied the graying man, “But, is it not worrying that all three of them are only mobilizing now, after decades of humanity being threatened? Just how powerful  _ is  _ this new creature?”

Gendo’s brows knit. “All the more reason that our plans must reach fruition.”

Then he addressed Misato. “There’s a spot of good news for you, Captain Katsuragi. It seems you and the children will have plenty of backup.”

“Hope it’s enough,” Misato grumbled, dread creeping up her neck.

The meteorite’s impact caught the attention of a very different set of sensors, too, sensors of living stone.

The blue lights of Mu’s System gleamed pale lilac for a moment, then returned to their typical hue. The newcomer was of little concern. It would be overwhelmed if it stood in the way of the System’s directive, just like anything else. Except, of course, the Three-Storms. If That were detected by the System, it would immediately perform a self-shutdown. There were some things that could not truly be fought. Even so, in case this newcomer happened to be a threat, the System focused more energy on the awakened Death’s Wings, some of which were already on their way to the surface from their nests. The newcomer would not be able to stand against them should it encounter them.

But, unbeknownst to the System- and _ very _ few things were unknown to the System- there  _ was  _ something out there to stand against them.

Something long-dormant, a desperate failsafe, but a perfect one. Though the Muans had pioneered living engines of war, not all of them had wished to be conquerors.

When they had gotten wind of the Death’s Wings, the magnum opus of the war effort, that small band of peace-loving Muans knew that protest would get them nowhere, and in the twilight decades of the great oceanic empire, they set about preparing something designed to destroy the bio-weapons of their fellow man. Breacher, Death’s Wing, both would be helpless before it.

It was done mere months before Manda forsook them, and the other gods rained their wrath upon Mu.

For twenty thousand years it waited to be called to action. When the System began awakening the Death’s Wings, a smaller System of similar design began executing its one and only directive: prepare the failsafe, the last and greatest of Mu’s artificial gods, for battle.

And now, as humanity’s older Guardians readied themselves to fight a space monster, as the Death’s Wings made for the surface of the ocean in search of food, the Muans’ secret weapon was about to wake up.

Far away from its resting place, on the Japanese mainland, a young woman, about halfway up an office building, felt a scalding pain against her chest out of seemingly nowhere. She’d been rather enjoying slacking off on her work for the day, too.

Stifling a gasp, she tugged on the string around her neck to fish the culprit out of her shirt.

The family heirloom, a smooth, pale magatama bead, gleamed back at her. Rather than the instant of burning heat moments before, it simply sat warm in her hand, as if it had been left in a patch of sunlight. The pain it had caused was gone, too, meaning there was no burn where it had rested.

The woman frowned at it, waiting for it to burn again in her palm, but it did not. Instead, it did something she hadn’t expected: it vibrated.

The young woman narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

It throbbed again, in time with her own heart, and the woman felt a strange pressure at the back of her head. Not painful, but strong, and distracting.

“What’s going on?” she whispered to herself as the magatama mirrored the steady  _ ba-bump  _ of her heart.

Then, she jumped as she was addressed by her neighboring coworker. “You good, Kusanagi-san?” he asked.

Asagi turned to him, trying not to look as bewildered as she felt. “Huh? Oh, yeah… I’m fine. Lost in thought, I guess.”

She dropped it back into her shirt to rest beside her heart, and though Asagi could not see it, the magatama began to glow just slightly, crisscrossed by pale blue lines.

The news of the Okinawa impact had spread to even the world’s most remote corners within hours. While certainly interesting, it hardly worried those who were far from the Japanese Archipelago, or those who had more pressing matters to attend to. People like the PPDC’s BEWN division: the Breacher Early-Warning Network.

By the standards of kaiju defense organizations, the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps could almost be described as “grassroots”. With so much geographical area to cover, they had to consolidate their funding carefully. As such, with all the money going toward Jaeger development, their Breacher early-warning system was much more rudimentary. It worked rather consistently, but it was far from sophisticated.

Floating sensor buoys were scattered around the Pacific, with moderate-sized, sail-equipped watercraft patrolling the ocean around them. The ships were out there for months at a time, so it wasn’t the most enjoyable job in the PPDC, but those assigned to it were well aware of how important their duty was, how much responsibility rested on their shoulders.

They’d been working overtime for the past three weeks or so.

Sitting around the monitors connected to the nearby buoy wasn’t exactly entertaining, and it wasn’t like the Breachers ever popped up close enough for them to see. Still, every one of them felt good about the part they played in protecting the mainland, regardless of how droll the actual work was.

A bit of a storm had blown up in the South Pacific. Nothing too threatening to their vessel, but the seas were still a tad choppy, and the starry sky was shrouded with thunderclouds. The rain was a steady hiss on the deck as the six men sat in the bridge, watching the monitors for any sign of a massive creature rising from the seafloor. There were occasionally blips, things like large sharks or the odd whale, but never anything designated kaiju size. The buoy’s radar had to be highly sensitive, after all.

After hours and hours of nothing but a peculiarly stationary animal about the size of an orca, one of the men couldn’t take the confined space any longer and stepped out onto the soaked deck of the ship.

Though the amber light of the mast’s floodlights was enough to illuminate the ship, it was only with the occasional flash of lightning that the man got to see his surroundings, the dark rolling waves, the churning underbellies of the clouds. He wondered if a kaiju would emerge from the tempest as he cast his gaze toward the other side of the ship, wondering if the lightning would show him anything new. 

He was disappointed; more waves.

When he turned back around, toward the side of the ship he was closest to, another sheet of lightning lit up the night, and he felt his blood turn to ice in his veins.

There was  _ something  _ crouched on the railing.

It was a bit taller than him, hunched over and gripping the railing with taloned, raptorial feet as well as a single large finger at the end of its long arms. A tail hung over the side of the ship, lashing back and forth in the downpour, but most striking was its head.

The top was almost perfectly flat, dominated by a bizarre symmetrical plate. The plate hung over the creature’s long, uncannily reptilian face, but did nothing to hide the faint yellow glow of its slit-pupiled eyes.

The lightning flashed again, a bolt into the churning sea this time, and with proper illumination the man discovered that the creature’s leathery skin was the color of blood. The light also revealed where its other fingers were: folded back along its forearm, incredibly long and connected to each other by a dark membrane.

Wings.

He took a cautious step back, and the creature followed his movements, but made no move to attack. A sudden move or shout could mean his end, so the man went as slow as he possibly could, with his goal being the door back into the ship’s cabin.

Then, over the rain, the thunder, the roar of the waves, he heard something else: wingbeats. That confused the man. The creature’s were still folded at its side.

Unless there were more than one.

The hairs on the back of the man’s neck stood up, and he opened his mouth to scream, but he never managed to.

He was cut off when a slavering maw clamped down over his torso, biting him in half with minimal effort on the part of the second, much larger creature. With a few mighty flaps, the second animal lifted up and away from the ship, and the man’s lower half, left behind, slumped forward onto the deck. The first, smaller creature climbed down onto the deck and walked over to the half-corpse.

Minutes passed. Blood pooled, mixing with the rainwater and seawater on the deck.

The door to the cabin opened again, and a second man stepped out into the deluge.

He immediately caught sight of the smaller creature enjoying its meal, and in the fraction of a second that it took his brain to process what he was seeing, the bigger jaws came down again, this time with a bit less force to avoid splitting him in two.

Instead he was lifted from the deck in his entirety and carried away into the stormy night.

Still more time passed. The small one finished its meal and scampered up next to the door, crouched low to keep from being seen.

Inside, the remaining four members of the crew began to notice the absences of their fellows.

“They’ve been out there a long time,” one said. “I’m not taking care of them if they catch cold.”

“They probably just went to sleep,” said another. “Sure, they’re not supposed to, but if you’re tired, you’re tired.”

“Someone should go check, at least,” the third stated, “Just for the sake of the logs, y’know?”

The fourth, the captain, was silent, because he was staring at the monitor. He had a very good reason: there was a lot going on down there. Nothing kaiju-sized, just dozens of different readings clustered around the ship and buoy. Odd, to say the least.

He didn’t show it outwardly, but he was disconcerted. Between the abnormal readings, his crewmates’ uncharacteristic disappearances, and the strange inexplicable unease he felt, he could tell something was amiss.

He chanced a glance outside as sheet lightning crashed deep in the storm.

A winged shadow was outlined against the light.

At the same time, one of the bigger readings on the radar, the size of a humpback whale, disappeared.

“Something’s wrong,” the captain barked, standing so quickly that his chair toppled. Ignoring the startled protests of the crew, he loaded a flare gun and threw open the cabin door.

Blood on the deck.

“Dude, what the fuck are you- oh… shit.”

Then, a hiss from the side.

All present turned to see the smaller creature, standing upright with its wings spread to make it appear larger than it actually was. Not that that was necessary, because it was over two meters tall regardless.

Over the roar of the rain and the sea, wingbeats.

“Duck!” roared the captain.

All four men literally hit the deck, just in time for great jaws to snap shut where their heads had been. The captain rolled over and was treated to a nightmare made real.

It was identical to the reptilian abomination of a creature next to them, but exponentially larger, as big as any of the giant mutated birds of Skull Island. 

The lightning flashed again, and the captain’s heart dropped like a stone.

The stormy sky was full of them, wheeling about in the downpour like vultures from the depths of hell. 

“Get back inside now!” 

As the three men behind him scrambled into the cabin, the captain kept the flare gun trained on the posturing creature next to him, ready to put a sparking flare in its eye if it tried anything. Even as he backed toward the door, the nightmarish bird-thing matched his pace, taking methodical steps forward to pressure him. Despite his own body being honed by the rigors of maritime life, he had no doubt this thing could overpower him physically.

Then the ship  _ listed,  _ tilting wildly to port, and the captain nearly lost his footing. The thing saw an opportunity and surged forward, but did not attack when he managed to point the gun at it again. It knew that what he held was a weapon.

Still keeping the business end pointed at the creature, the captain cast his eyes to port, looking for the cause of the sudden tilt.

A single red finger, its great claw sunken into the ship’s deck, was pulling the vessel’s port side down.

The ship tilted further as the thing pulled down, and then its head came into view. It was identical to the small creature beside him in every way except one, perhaps the most important way: size.

The thing pulling on the boat was as big as a small kaiju. It was big enough to swallow him and three of its own smaller doppelgangers whole.

All told, it was likely the size of the ship.

At that moment, the captain realized that he and his crew were going to die.

Even so, determined not to leave this world quietly, the captain wheeled and loosed the flare right into the great glowing eye of the bigger monster. The smaller one moved just as the larger screamed in pain, a horrible warbling screech so high and loud that the captain’s left eardrum painfully burst and the cabin’s windows shattered. It was still screaming when it released the ship and slipped back into the churning waves.

The smaller monster tackled the captain, and though he felt its claws sinking into his thigh he was more preoccupied with keeping its jaws away. It took all the strength he had to keep its mouth shut and away from his body. 

He was rescued from his immediate demise when one of his crew reemerged from the cabin and bashed it on its flat-topped head with a fire extinguisher. The batlike horror shrieked and jumped away, wings snapping open to catch the gale. Off the little one went into the night.

“You okay?! How’s your leg-”

“Get more flares-”

Another awful screech rang out over the storm, followed by another, and another.

There were dozens of the things wheeling beneath the clouds, some as small as the one that had attacked the captain but others much larger, with wingspans like small airplanes. The giant one that had nearly capsized the ship was nowhere to be found-

Until it burst out of the water, spreading wings that were easily twice as wide as it was tall, horrible bat’s wings that blotted out the dark sky for the men that beheld it. Each wingbeat was an extra gale lashing against their faces and their sail, even as a few of the small ones perched atop the mast.

There was no visible wound left where the captain had shot it with the flare. That meant that this was either a different, equally large monster, or it possessed a kaiju-level healing factor.

Neither possibility was a comfort to the doomed crew.

The bat-lizard-bird monster was glaring right at them, even as three lines on its throat took on a similar yellow glow to its eyes. The men felt, rather than heard, a low hum, reverberating in the very core of their being. 

In the glow of the lightning high above, all four of them watched as its jaw opened wide, revealing a cavernous maw lined with teeth, and a long prehensile tongue that curled up in its opened mouth.

Then, the strangest thing happened.

The hum turned into a high, keening sound, almost like a bell, as the flat plate atop the monster’s head resonated, vibrating at incredible speed, immensely energetic soundwaves storing up as the flying shadow’s forked tongue took the approximate shape of a tuning fork.

A thin, perfectly linear beam of concentrated sound, so powerful that it heated its path through the air into a glowing line, issued from the monster’s tongue and cleaved the entire ship in half down the middle. It split in two from deck to keel, from bow to stern, as if a giant had brought a blade down upon it. The waiting seas rushed up into the newly made gap as both halves of the boat fell away from each other, one side with all the remaining crew.

They went into the cold water with the rest of the ship, and as the lightning came again, the captain saw dozens more of the things swimming up from the depths.

Then claws closed around him and he was pulled from the water and thrown high into the air, only to fall into the waiting, cavernous jaws of the biggest one.

It didn’t even bother to chew him.

With their snack done, the creatures turned their attention to the buoy. In a few moments, it too was sliced apart, its systems offline as it sank to the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.

And all over that vast ocean, across the date line, under clouds or clear skies, the sun or the stars, this process repeated a dozen times.

After roughly an hour, the Breacher Early-Warning Network was no more.

“Tsubasa, I am not sending you to Okinawa, and that’s final.”

“On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that whatever crash-landed there today is emitting  Shénshòujìng’s Aufwachen waveform. Let the monsters and NERV handle things.”

“Commander… Uncle, you cannot expect me to just sit back and watch!” Tsubasa cried. “I am meant to protect this country, and I plan to do just that, even without Tachibana and Yukine!”

Genjuro sighed. “You won’t be able to protect much if you get your relic destroyed by that thing.”

“I’m a small target, and there will be several much larger ones than me there. I can handle this.”

“I can’t send you there in good conscience,” Genjuro reaffirmed, still monitoring the situation.

_ “You do not have a choice.” _

Fear ran up the spines of both Kazanaris on the bridge. Even Fujitaka and Tomosato straightened up at the sudden voice, as the big screen at the front of the room displayed a window labeled SOUND ONLY.

_ “She is going to Okinawa.” _

This was the voice of perhaps the one man alive who could tell Genjuro Kazanari what to do. A voice that, despite its clear age, also carried decades of power, a voice both Tsubasa and Genjuro had come to associate with absolute orders, the refusal of which meant consequences. The voice of the man who had created the warrior called Tsubasa.

This was Fudo Kazanari, the head of the family. A veteran of the First Age, without whom the Symphogears and S.O.N.G. would not exist.

Tsubasa, all of a sudden, found herself  _ dreading  _ Okinawa.

_ “The eight-headed serpent is going there to fight. For Ame-no-Habakiri, the blade that felled it, to miss the same battle? A foolish notion. She will go.” _

“Father,” Genjuro replied, voice terse, “The risks outweigh any potential contribution she could make. For Tsubasa to go is unnecessary, and could result in the loss of her life or the Ame-no-Habakiri.”

_ “Do you consider those to be different things?” _

Tsubasa took a sharp breath in, still frozen.

_ “Tsubasa  _ is  _ Ame-no-Habakiri. Her and that sword are one. She is the blade I have forged to protect this nation, meaning it is the height of wastefulness to leave her sheathed. You will send her, and the battle will temper her closer to perfection. If she loses the Gear… then she was never worthy to wield it.” _

“That’s it,” whispered Tsubasa, only to herself. “I-I am a sword. I am Japan’s sword…”

_ “She will go  _ now.  _ That is final.” _

The observer, of course, felt the power consolidating on that little island on the other side of the world. They recognized every single presence, and all were interesting to them.

They also sensed the latent power in this new invader from beyond the sky, this second Fallen Star. It was nowhere near as strong as the first, obviously, for that creature was power beyond power, but it was still a mighty force to be reckoned with. The observer shifted their tens of thousands of tons in discomfort, for the newcomer was in fact stronger than themselves at the moment.

“What’s wrong?” their accomplice asked, having grown attuned to the observer’s mannerisms over the past seven centuries. “Something has unsettled you.”

_ Come,  _ the observer beckoned. Their accomplice moved with neither urgency nor lethargy, and placed their hand upon the observer. Their mental link, strengthened further by the physical contact, transmitted the observer’s observations of the new Fallen Star to their accomplice’s brain.

They ruminated for just a moment, digesting the new information, then nodded their head. “This is an… interesting development.”

_ It has strengthened considerably since I first sensed it beyond our skies. _

“Sometimes I forget that you can ‘see’ into space. At any rate, is this thing going to be a problem? A proverbial monkey wrench?”

_...No. For now, it has no cause to align itself against us. It is a neutral party with which we should have no quarrel. If anything, this newcomer may prove useful to us. _

Their accomplice raised a questioning eyebrow at that thought. “How so?”

_ If it kills the Guardians, there will be virtually nothing standing in the way of our goals. _

“Interesting,” chuckled the accomplice. “I take it we’re rooting for this strange Godzilla from space, then?”

_ It seems that we are. _

The crystals in their crater went unchanged for most of the night. Even as crowds of people, native Okinawans and tourists alike, got as close as they could to take pictures, the mound of minerals just sat there, humming gently. King Caesar had taken a seat in the middle of the night, its legs folded as if meditating. Power-saver mode.

When the sun rose, so did Caesar’s eyelids, and with the sounds of shifting stone the golem got to its feet to behold the sight. From its fifty-meter vantage point, Caesar could see the sea, now teeming with human warships big and small. 

Crouched on one of the larger vessels, a pair of lithe creatures colored purple and red respectively. They were taller than itself, but also a bit like itself. Considering the likely prompt for their presence, Caesar counted them as allies, the first to arrive. 

The golem knew there were more on the way.

A sonic boom heralded the arrival of the Divine Moth, flying high as to not disturb the already damaged ecosystem even further. She slowed above the island, flying in wide circles around the crater as she took stock of the situation. Mothra was sure that her fellow Guardians were not far behind.

Indeed, within the hour the sonar of the human warships picked up a massive object approaching just beneath the ocean’s surface, barreling toward the island in a straight line, so they parted to give it an unobstructed path.

Yamata-no-Orochi’s entrance, just as it had been on all the prior occasions it appeared for battle, was dramatic. It surged from the shore with a resounding hiss, revealing itself to the general public for the first time since the turn of the century.

Its scales shone the same striking green color as ever, with the bright crimson hood of its central cobra-like head adding eye-catching contrast. The other seven heads, each one similar to a living snake species but much more distinctly monstrous, scanned the serpent’s surroundings in earnest even as the cobra kept its eyes ahead, focused on the crystal mound that was its target. Its body went on for hundreds of meters, ending in a tail that also split into eight, one of them crowned by a rattle. Yamata-no-Orochi coiled up a fair distance away from King Caesar, towering over the ancient shisa. All the while, Mothra continued circling high above. 

Scarcely a quarter of an hour passed when seismic disturbances were reported, and before long the earth caved in opposite Orochi, and from the hole rose a red-scaled head with a prominent horn and huge, floppy ears. Baragon shook chunks of earth the size of cars from his back and climbed out of the mouth of his tunnel, glancing this way and that with round, intelligent eyes. Even on four legs, he too stood taller than King Caesar, though he seemed to appreciate the stony guardian’s presence more than his fellow serpentine Guardian. Baragon offered Caesar a nod, which its logic center interpreted as a gesture of camaraderie. The shisa returned the nod, if a tad stiffly.

Next to arrive were the strange creatures similar to Caesar. They swam from the warship to the island and clambered up the cliffs to the Guardians’ level. The way they moved was full of life and humanity despite the artifice encasing almost every square meter of their bodies. Curious.

They were, once again, a fair bit taller than King Caesar. If the golem’s AI were complicated enough to feel emotions, it might have been embarrassed at being the smallest combatant present.

The feeling wouldn’t have lasted, though, as Caesar’s sensors picked up something else, something new, and its head swiveled to behold one of the humans’ little gray aircraft, one of the ones with the single rotor atop it. Within the vehicle rested a power very similar to that of the Divine Moth’s, though vastly inferior. King Caesar’s logic center assumed that it was one of Mothra’s relics, and that in the heat of battle, it would be outputting significantly more of that strange musical energy that also coursed through its creator.

Curiously, as the helicopter hovered between Caesar and Orochi, seven of the serpent’s eight heads swiveled to look at it, reptilian eyes narrowing for a moment. After a beat, they returned to monitoring the crystal mound, though with notable tension added to the serpent’s necks. All eight tails lashed in the air behind it uneasily, the rattle emitting occasional noise.

Orochi rested to the east of the crystals. On its other side, to the west, Baragon sat on his haunches, relaxed but wary. To the north, those twin humanoids, and to the south, King Caesar himself. Hovering between the shisa and the snake, the relic-wielding human.

And, circling above them all, Mothra.

They all waited for the crystal to  _ do  _ something, something to justify their presence, their worry. It was clearly alive, and the last time the gods of Earth had been careless with a Fallen Star, they had enabled sixty-five million years of successive tragedies. 

King Caesar, the three Guardian Monsters, Shinji and Asuka, and Tsubasa didn’t have to wait long.

With a chorus of clinking sounds, the crystal moved.

There is a point in the early life of intelligent species where the brain clicks, and sapience is achieved. The living crystal of the asteroid had lacked a proper mind during its travel to and descent unto Earth, but upon landing and receiving the abundant nourishment of the planet’s air and soil and water, it had begun developing a proper brain. One of fleshy gray matter, not signals transmitted through organic mineral compounds.

That brain turned on as the newly aware creature rested in the crater of its own making, surrounded by the inhabitants of the world it had crashed into.

It had to take form, make itself  _ known. _

And with that thought, its cells, crystalline and otherwise, went to work. They multiplied, organized, working off the blueprint written in the genetic code donated to them. That blueprint had, naturally, changed somewhat with the crystal mutations, but the basic plans were the same.

An unstoppable, towering mountain of muscle and scales.

The crystals jingled as they shifted. As they became rooted in hard scales, anchored in tough flesh. They fused into new shapes, still unmistakably crystal but taking on the forms written in Godzilla’s DNA.

Rapidly-forming bones were reinforced by crystal lattices inside and out. Organic-mineral ribs caged a fast-forming heart that crackled with energy instead of nuclear fire. A skull encased the brain, with sharp teeth and powerful jaws to match.

The changing mound began to rise.

Massive, powerful legs formed, slamming into the earth and supporting the titan’s ever-increasing weight. A tail extended, much longer than the original, tipped with razor-sharp crystal like a bladed whip.

Now on its own two feet, the newborn titan straightened, the last of the crystals shifting into place as it rose ever higher.

It rose above Caesar. It rose above Baragon. It rose above the Evangelions, above Orochi, above the helicopter. 

Where Godzilla would have black-and-white dorsal spines of bone, keratin, and scales, this creature had purplish crystal structures running down its back and the length of its tail. While Godzilla’s scales were a uniform charcoal color, this thing possessed bright red ones running down its front. 

But most striking were the additions.

Extra crystal formations armored its forearms like gauntlets, and ringed its shoulders like a wide protective collar. At its brow, there was another crystal structure, this one yellow, that only brought to mind the image of a crown of sorts.

Its barrel chest inhaled its first lungfuls of Earth’s atmosphere, that familiar rumble issuing from it. Then it exhaled, flexing its extremities, cracking its neck.

As the defenders of the planet watched nervously, it finally opened its eyes. They were more than familiar; they were identical.

An angry orange, like the very fires of Hell.

What issued from its mouth with its next breath, however, was  _ not  _ familiar. It was  _ not  _ Godzilla’s  _ skreeonk. _

It was a shriek, piercing and otherworldly. It was confirmation that, relation and resemblance aside, they were not dealing with a new Godzilla at all.

They were dealing with something much worse.

**CHAPTER XXI: Brother From A Mirrored Mother**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final exams ate up a lot of my time, so this update comes a little more than a month after the last. My apologies for that.  
> You didn't really think I would write a Godzilla fusion/crossover fic without throwing Gamera into the mix, did you? It's actually pretty hilarious how Symphogear XDU did a Gamera crossover while this chapter was still being written. Now I look like a copycat.  
> As always, thank you for reading and commenting, it all serves as motivation for me to keep writing this.  
> Next time, SpaceGodzilla takes its new body on a bit of a test run, the PPDC panics, and the Observers continue to bide their time...


	22. CHAPTER XXII: Earth Defense Force

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sung in this chapter, we have "Beyond the BLADE". If you're using Symphogear's wiki, you'll notice there are two versions of this song on there. Listen to the first. The Ignited Arrangement comes somewhat later.

_“Its length extends over eight valleys and eight hills, and if one look at its belly, it is all constantly bloody and inflamed.”_

**-Excerpt from the** **_Kojiki,_ ** **describing the legendary Yamata-no-Orochi. This mythical name would later be applied to the actual eight-headed serpent kaiju that likely inspired the myth.**

  
  


**> ’ The New Age of Monsters‘<**

  
  


The meteorite in Okinawa was international news. With the military and kaiju responses factored in, the developing situation was being broadcast all over the world. From Times Square to dingy backalley bars, news coverage of the situation was nearly universal despite how poor the quality of the footage was. The radiation from the meteorite was so strong as to disrupt the cameras at close range, so all filming was at a respectable distance. Even so, the world watched.

The man named Ryoji Kaji watched too, even as he made his way between the tables of a small coffee shop in Berlin. It was a miracle he didn’t bump into anything. Everyone around him, including the barista he’d just ordered with, was absorbed in the broadcast too. At least there was nobody else up and moving to walk into. 

As such, Kaji slipped into a booth without incident, setting his personal effects beside him before finally turning to face the person across from him, who was the only one without her eyes on the cafe’s TV.

“You’re late,” she said, one eyebrow raised.

“Traffic’s murder,” Kaji said.

“You walked here,” she replied without missing a beat.

Kaji blinked. “Am I being surveilled by you, too?”

The woman smiled, baring pointed canines. “You are now. You’re going to be a much more important person from here on out.”

“What about NERV surveillance?” 

“Probably enjoying a peaceful nap at their posts. This meeting is for your normal ears and my big ones only, Mr. Kaji.”

Kaji leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Can I ask what this is about?”

The woman met his eyes with hers; they were a striking mix of crimson and yellow. “You’re being transferred. To NERV’s Japan branch. There you’ll be promoted and as such will have more clearance.”

“Clearance to do what, exactly?” asked Kaji, though he already knew the answer.

She chuckled and reached for her mug. “To snoop around, of course. You’ve been doing good work in this branch, but it’s become abundantly clear to the higher-ups that all the juicy stuff is in their main HQ.”

“Considering how much of their main HQ is _funded_ by the higher-ups, how come they can’t just ask ol’ Ikari for info?” Kaji wondered as his coffee was brought over.

The woman took a sip, then placed her other hand on her chin in a way Kaji thought looked uncomfortable, with her index and middle fingers tracing her jawline. “Ah, I’m glad you asked. Y’see, therein lies the problem: he isn’t cooperating. We don’t fund them entirely; at this point they could cut us out and get that money elsewhere, and then we’d be in a pickle.”

Kaji thanked the cafe worker and took the warm cup into his hands. “Ah, I get it. They want to get me in there while they still have any leverage within NERV.”

“Bingo,” she replied. “You’re clever. No wonder they think you’re up to the task.”

Kaji snorted. “Yeah, and yet I haven’t been promoted in five years. I don’t even know who you are and you’re probably a rank above me.”

The woman frowned at that. “Really? I thought most people knew me by my appearance, if nothing else. Hard to find many girls this mutated who are still pretty, y’know.”

“Mutated?” Kaji asked, really _looking_ at the woman for the first time. “I dunno, you don’t look too different. Just the ears, really.”

“Well, aren’t you nice,” she replied, wiggling her admittedly abnormally long ears.

Kaji chuckled. “I try. Can I take you out sometime?”

“Not _that_ nice. I prefer women, anyway.”

“Good taste.”

She snorted. “Yeah, okay. Name’s Millaarc. Apparently I had these teeth as a baby and my parents thought it’d be funny to name me after a vampire. That’s not even where these features come from!”

“Where do they come from?” Kaji asked.

Millaarc jabbed a thumb at the TV. “Probably that big red dragon-dog Baragon. That’s what they’ve been thinking since he popped up in Paris, anyhow.”

“Oh, the whole ‘kaiju gradually altered the DNA of the early humans in their ecosystem’ thing that created the Houtua?” Kaji inferred.

“Yep,” Millaarc replied, “Meaning there were probably a buncha people who looked like me back when that thing was more active.”

Kaji sipped his coffee. “Well, look on the bright side. You don’t have his horn.”

“True. Guess I oughtta count my blessings.”

Their conversation was derailed by a sudden outbreak of chatter and murmurs in the coffee shop, so Kaji and Millaarc trained their eyes on the television just in time to watch the crystal meteor change shape, growing bone and muscle and flesh as it rose above the other gathered kaiju. Despite their line of work, even they were transfixed by the monstrous metamorphosis.

“Sheesh,” Millaarc said, and Kaji found himself agreeing. “Things are gettin’ messier out there by the day.”

“Safe to say we’re in the Second Age now?” he asked.

Millaarc hummed. “I’d say that started the moment Godzilla destroyed Castle Bravo. But yeah, things are really hitting full swing now. All the more reason we have to keep an eye on Gendo Ikari. That man is unpredictable, and that’s the last thing the top brass want to deal with in these troubled times.”

“The top brass, huh?” Kaji began, “Which of them sent you here to give me this assignment?”

Despite having assured Kaji of their lack of observation earlier in the conversation, Millaarc cast her eyes from side to side before she spoke. “I work under Lady Cagliostro. This was mostly her idea.”

The NERV agent felt a chill run through him at the name. “Oh, her. At this point I’m convinced she torments me for the fun of it…”

Millaarc’s brow furrowed. “What’d she do to you?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

The woman’s expression lightened again. “Oh, _that’s_ what. Don’t feel bad, you’re not the first guy wh-”

“Not another word,” Kaji intoned. “I still don’t have my old game back.”

Millaarc slid out of the booth with a sigh. “Well, I’m not here to discuss your alleged ‘game’, Mr. Kaji. You have your assignment. Transfer papers should come through in the next few days. Try not to get caught and killed, this job is too important for you to half-ass.”

“Right,” Kaji replied, serious in spite of his relaxed posture.

She rested a hand on his shoulder for a moment, drumming long nails against his shirt. “The Illuminati’s counting on you.”

“...Nice to feel wanted.”

Way out in the Southeast Pacific, thousands of miles off Chile’s coast, roughly between it and New Zealand, there rested a small archipelago, surrounded by a perpetual electromagnetic storm.

Undiscovered for most of human history, this place was practically the most isolated location on the surface of the planet, known only in the legends of precursor civilizations. Protected by its cloudy walls, the islands were sheltered from the changes of the world outside. Patterns of evolution for the organisms living there were massively removed from those elsewhere, resulting in an entirely unique, bizarre ecosystem.

When satellite imagery revealed it to the United States in the 1970s, it was given a name, one ascribed to it previously in the scattered legends that described it.

Skull Island.

Officially designated the “Faro Archipelago”, Skull Island was a place of immediate interest to MONARCH, and they’d easily secured a grant for a small expedition. They had expected to encounter difficulties and danger, so they had enlisted the help of the US military.

What they hadn’t expected was a pair of full-fledged kaiju.

King Kong and Ramarak had both appeared in retaliation for the expedition’s explosive seismic survey, and after knocking each and every helicopter from the sky, the monsters had turned on each other for a brief yet bloody battle that ended in the Skull-devil’s retreat.

The rest is history, including the discovery of the Hollow Earth, many tunnels of which converged beneath the archipelago. As the First Age went on, and humanity grew more confident in its ability to not just survive but combat kaiju, more expeditions were funded. Each one was more successful than the last, until MONARCH was able to set up a proper outpost on the main island, with Kong and the native Iwi tribe allowing them to remain in peace.

New discoveries about the island were being made all the time, and every single one was strange, improbable. The archipelago was dubbed by the greater scientific community as a land where “God did not finish creation”. Despite their protection by Kong, life there was perilous for each and every human in MONARCH’s Outpost 33 staff.

Some of them didn’t mind. One of them _liked_ it. 

That was why 94-year-old Hank Marlow, who didn’t look a day over 64, didn’t live within the outpost’s walls. He lived in a selfmade shack halfway up a prominent hillside, uncaring of the dangers. Common opinion among the MONARCH folk was that the man was quite insane despite how personable he was.

In Marlow’s opinion, he was just well-adjusted. He’d fended off the horrors of the Faro ecosystem essentially by himself for decades until the 1973 MONARCH expedition, and that kind of experience wasn’t the sort to fade from memory with age.

And so, every day before dawn, Marlow woke up and prepared himself some coffee with an old-fashioned strainer, sat outside his home and watched the sun rise.

And, immediately after daybreak, Marlow would hold his hand over the mouth of his MONARCH-issue mug while the earth shook, and then call out a greeting as the god of the island, a bipedal mountain of earthy brown fur, passed the hillside.

Kong, for his part, nodded back sometimes. To the King, Marlow was a funny little creature who was quite different from any of the other humans on Skull Island. He’d become recognizable to the great ape over the decades.

That day, though, there was no time for greetings.

For as Kong walked out into his kingdom, he was met by a familiar, but unexpected sight.

Balanced on two legs, whiplash tail trailing far behind, a mass of pale scales stood in King Kong’s path.

A bony face like a skull leered at him, even as the reptilian beast’s intelligent eyes regarded the simian with wariness and barely hidden animosity.

Kong was God on Skull Island. There was a Devil there too, keeping the ecosystem in a delicate balance.

Ramarak had come calling.

The Skull-devil’s stance did not suggest that it was there to do battle, however. Kong tensed, but also retained his neutral posture. Ramarak took that as encouragement, and inclined its head. A gesture of respect between old rivals.

Kong just huffed and beckoned it forward. It wasn’t often the Crawlers’ Alpha approached him for reasons besides battle, so the King was most interested in what could have prompted the visit.

Ramarak got straight to the point after approaching. Shifting its weight onto one of its two legs, the reptilian monster lifted the other, which had been curled into a pseudo-fist until that point.

When Ramarak opened its claws, Kong’s brow furrowed. Resting in his rival’s hand was a small, red, winged creature, dripping blood and twitching feebly. Its face bore a disturbing resemblance to the skull-like armor on Ramarak’s own head.

This creature was not native to Skull Island. It was an outsider, an invader. Something that should not have been there.

More importantly, it was most likely not alone.

Ramarak and Kong tolerated each other. They did not “get along”. Even so, Faro was home to them both. When the times called for it, they were more than capable of cooperating.

Kong ordered Ramarak to have its smaller cousins keep an eye out for more of these newcomers and kill them at all costs, then turned and went back into his hollow. Ramarak tossed the dying winged creature into its mouth and made for the Hollow Earth, where its Skullcrawler kin rested en masse.

Kong was headed into the depths as well, but not to the labyrinthine hive-like network of tunnels that connected the archipelago, and the world. He was headed to a straight, isolated tunnel that he had dug out himself, over several centuries. A tunnel that went deep. A tunnel that opened up into a small cavern, with a floor that reflected the light of the bonfire that Kong maintained down there.

All of the kaiju were of human-level intelligence or higher, but Kong was the only one known to craft and use scaled-up human tools. He wasn’t just intelligent, but _clever._

So clever, in fact, that he had figured out what this shiny floor was. It was the top of a massive chunk of metallic rock, one that extended beneath the entire archipelago, and the seafloor beyond.

It was also very conductive. Kong knew not how, but at some point in the past, long before his own birth 20 million years ago, it had been energized, and the Everstorm around Faro had been created. The storm had always been there, and it would never go away.

But Kong had gotten an idea, once. One he had hoped he would never have to try.

He knelt on the great magnet and closed his eyes, drew in a breath. He reached deep within himself, and placed his palms together.

He rubbed them together, then drew them apart and clapped. Then Kong repeated the action. Then again, and again. Ten times the great ape repeated this action.

When he opened his eyes, they glowed blue, and he beheld his hands crackling with electricity, currents arcing between strands of fur. This was the lightning, his very own power, and part of what had allowed him to reign as king over the island for his entire life.

Yet lightning comes as part of a pair. Its counterpart, the thing it precedes, is thunder.

To the Iwis of Faro, Kong was the god of both.

Kong apologized to all of Skull Island’s inhabitants as he slammed both hands down on the metal, sending the voltage coursing through the enormous batholith of magnetic minerals. A thunderclap rang out in the cavern as King Kong fed the storm from deep beneath the ground.

Miles and miles above, the storm began to grow not outward, but inward. Normal weather patterns formed on Skull Island, so its inhabitants were no strangers to downpours, but what Kong had just done would trap the archipelago in a perpetual deluge of wind and lightning.

It would also prevent too many more of those strange, blood-red invaders. Skull Island’s King Kong had just placed it under lockdown. 

But what Kong, for all his cleverness, did _not_ know, was that the storm would only deter the small ones. The bigger ones, which grew by the day, would weather the storm with little issue.

Then, if allowed, they would turn Faro Archipelago into their new nesting grounds.

When it stood up, news outlets around the world were quick to point out the terrifying, uncanny similarities between this new crystalline kaiju and the most feared monster to ever roam the Earth. Within minutes, the creature was trending on every social media site worldwide, and on Twitter, the top hashtag named it “SpaceGodzilla”. Before long, that was the name the news outlets were using too, much to MONARCH’s chagrin. Even so, they opened a file for the new creature under that very moniker.

SpaceGodzilla, of course, knew not of its human-given name. It didn’t know much of anything, really. All it had was a hodgepodge, scattered memories and instincts from a creature that it had come from, but was not a clone of. It was its own creature. _That,_ SpaceGodzilla was certain of. 

It cast its orange eyes this way and that. It was surrounded by a few creatures like itself, and thousands of much smaller ones. Humans, its memories supplied. 

Even as it looked around, the other kaiju glared at it. Were they angry with it? SpaceGodzilla didn’t know. It had just woken up, how could it have angered anything? Perhaps they were just wary?

Then the ground shook as footsteps pounded against the earth, and for the first time in its life, SpaceGodzilla experienced pain as Unit-02 leapt onto its back and plunged a progressive knife into its eye. The kaiju let out various exclamations of shock and dismay, but SpaceGodzilla made the loudest noise, an agonized shriek.

It took firm hold of Unit-02’s wrist and yanked the cyborg off its back. Asuka recovered with a roll, but before she could act King Caesar swept the Evangelion’s legs and held it to the ground. The knife, though, was still buried in SpaceGodzilla’s eyeball. The newborn monster thrashed, clawing at the injury, which only made it worse. Eventually, the knife fell to the ground, coated in purple blood. The space monster breathed heavily as its healing slowly regrew the eyeball, and all the kaiju watched in suspense, waiting to see what it would do.

SpaceGodzilla wiped blood away from its regenerated eye, then narrowed both at Unit-02 and King Caesar.

The air distorted.

A resounding crack rang out on the battlefield as both of the living weapons were repelled, sent flying away from SpaceGodzilla at high speed, tumbling end over end, tearing up the forest. With a little more force, they would have smashed into the now-fleeing crowd of humans.

King Caesar wasted no time leaping to his feet, but Asuka was slower to raise Unit-02, swearing in German all the way.

SpaceGodzilla, though, wasn’t looking at them. It was looking at its hands.

Wondering how it had done that. Realizing that it had a great deal of power.

If these creatures wanted a fight, SpaceGodzilla decided, it would give them one. It knew how to do that, somehow. 

The orange eyes narrowed again with anger, and SpaceGodzilla turned on Orochi, once again shoving forward with one arm to launch the serpent away telekinetically. Instead of flying back like Caesar and Unit-02, Orochi slid a fair distance along the ground, eight jaws clenched as it pushed against the space monster’s force. Before SpaceGodzilla could overpower the serpent, a stream of fire cascaded over its back and shoulders courtesy of Baragon. Mothra dove at the same time, recognizing that a fight was now unavoidable. 

“The hell did you do that for?!” Shinji screamed.

Asuka wasted no time replying, “Were you just gonna stand there and let it get the first hit in, idiot?!”

“There didn’t have to be _any_ hits, Asuka-”

“Oh, I get it. You just wanted to go first and hog all the glory like with Gigan, right?!”

Shinji actually took his hands off Unit-01’s yokes to smack both palms against his face in frustration. “You’re kidding, right? This isn’t about _glory,_ Asuka!”

“No?” she shot back, “Then stay outta my way today!”

“Asuka!”

Unit-02 was back in the fray, light on its feet as it searched for an opening. Mothra was hovering just out of SpaceGodzilla’s reach, battering it with wind and stinging scales even as the space monster lashed its tapering tail at Baragon. King Caesar, being the smallest yet most mobile of the kaiju, was waiting in the wings, arms in a ready position. Orochi was the opposite; far too massive to charge into the fray without harming its fellow Guardian Monsters.

And then there was the helicopter, forced to retreat by the strong winds from Mothra’s wings. 

“I need you to get closer!” Tsubasa cried to Ogawa as he wrestled with the controls.

“Hang on!” he replied, veering the tiny aircraft back towards the carnage while Baragon hung onto SpaceGodzilla’s lashing, prehensile tail for dear life. 

SpaceGodzilla got an idea at that moment, and with nothing but the strength in its lower body, swung the still-attached Baragon at Mothra like a club. The impact knocked the Earth Guardian’s grip loose, and though she was knocked away, Mothra caught hold of him and recovered before both of them could smash into the ground.

With the way cleared, Yamata-no-Orochi charged, two heads snapping at SpaceGodzilla’s arms, and two at the base of its neck, just above the large crystals ringing its shoulders and collarbones. All four bites found their marks, though there was tough crystal protecting soft flesh in the case of the massive kaiju’s forearms. By virtue of being a snake, Orochi’s necks were equally as powerful as its body, and so it took the combined efforts of only half of them to completely lift SpaceGodzilla from the ground and _throw_ it. 

SpaceGodzilla shrieked in surprise, but in its desperate instinct to break its fall, discovered a new, or perhaps old, application for its power.

It never hit the ground. Instead, the crystal beast halted in midair, slowly rotating until it was right-side-up, a gentle glow about its entire 122-meter body. SpaceGodzilla spread its arms, testing its telekinetic hover. Then it turned its palms to the heavens and raised its hands, and all across the forested battlefield, the crystals that had fallen alongside the space monster took to the air as well.

A swarm of spearlike gemstones floated about the battlefield for an instant before each one homed in on a target, and then the air was full of mineral missiles screaming towards the kaiju. 

Mothra dodged or batted away anything that was launched at her, Baragon simply took refuge underground, and King Caesar effortlessly evaded every projectile, but the rest had somewhat of a harder time. The Evangelions, though agile, had little of King Caesar’s millennia of experience to hone their grace, and so were battered repeatedly by the crystal spears. Orochi was simply too enormous to properly evade, and though its emerald scales were tough, some of the crystals still found purchase in its flesh, sending rivers of blood to the forest floor. Hissing angrily, the serpent wasted no time yanking the projectiles out with various heads.

SpaceGodzilla didn’t give the monsters and Evas any time to recover and floated quickly over to Unit-02 to seize its shoulder pylons. There was only the slightest creak of metal before they snapped off, depriving Asuka of her weapons supply. SpaceGodzilla snorted as an assortment of knives and small arms tumbled from between its fingers as it crushed the pylons, then kneed the crimson biomech in the chest.

No stranger to being kneed by 120+-meter kaiju, Shinji threw Unit-01 at the interplanetary titan to buy Asuka some recovery time. It was a simple matter to drive his fist into SpaceGodzilla’s gut, prompting a grunt of pain from its head high above, but then Shinji pushed further, bracing Unit-01 against the space monster and putting all of the Evangelion’s strength into it. 

Despite the immense difference in weight, SpaceGodzilla was surprised to find itself being pushed back. For its size, the Eva was incredibly strong. The newborn giant had to take this seriously. SpaceGodzilla grabbed Unit-01’s head, giving Shinji an unsettling flashback, then threw the purple-green biomech to the side, painfully tweaking the necks of the machine and its pilot.

But in the void left by the pair of Evangelions, there suddenly appeared something much smaller, much faster. A blur of browns and yellows, King Caesar charged and leapt off the ground, performing a stunningly acrobatic somersault kick that caught SpaceGodzilla directly in the jaw. His landing shook the earth, but King Caesar wasn’t finished with its foe. The golem ducked and weaved, evading swipes and kicks, sidestepping the titan’s stabbing tail and landing small but mighty blows in the openings it was given.

King Caesar was less than half of SpaceGodzilla’s height, yet it seemed to be handling the monster with little effort. Things only got more difficult for the alien when Mothra rejoined the fray, striking at its dorsal crystals with her god rays. With its energy supply disrupted, SpaceGodzilla started to really feel the stone guardian’s strikes. And there was still Orochi waiting in the wings, and Baragon lurking somewhere underground. 

A flick of the wrist, and a towering crystal burst out of the earth in front of SpaceGodzilla, forcing King Caesar to perform an evasive somersault backwards. With some of the pressure off, SpaceGodzilla turned to his other assailant and let power gather in its throat. When it opened its jaw, the energy released in a crackling beam that SpaceGodzilla found it could aim with its very mind. The attack curved around Mothra’s wings and struck her in the back, briefly setting some of her fluff alight and forcing her into a momentary retreat. With the new opening, though, Orochi moved in, the holes in its body all but gone.

There was another who found their opening, too.

The helicopter’s door slid open, the wind roaring inside and blowing Tsubasa’s hair into a fan behind her. With only the slightest bit of fear and trepidation, the sole Symphogear wielder jumped out, a hundred meters from the ground. 

Her Holy Chant was quiet, and yet every giant on the battlefield heard her as though she was singing into their ears.

_Imyuteus Ame no Habakiri tron_

The power of song surged from the crimson pendant, shrouding Tsubasa in a ball of glowing light as, within, she equipped her Symphogear.

The inner gear came first as always, replacing her clothing, but what followed was a process Tsubasa still wasn’t used to. After the X-Drive battle with berserk Godzilla, she, Yukine, and Tachibana had all noticed their performance increase, as well as a slight change in the look of the armor itself. With the changes came a different mechanism for the Gear’s equipment.

The metamaterial appeared in little pieces, shaped like gemstones. Within the orb of phonic power, a storm of what looked like tiny sapphires swirled around Tsubasa, then stuck themselves to the bodysuit, preparing to take their assigned shapes. Unlike before, the plates did not slide into position but rather burst forth from the small gems, interlocking to create the nigh-impenetrable armor of the Symphogear System.

The new armor bore an overall similar silhouette to the old, but its structure was the slightest bit different, the colors a bit darker, more intense blues. It also showed off a little more skin, to Tsubasa’s slight embarrassment.

The barrier field of energy dissipated, revealing Ame-no-Habakiri in all its azure glory, and with the aid of the wings attached to her boots Tsubasa was able to glide to the top of a tree. At her thought, the armor at her thigh produced the hilt of her Armed Gear, which she wasted no time drawing to its full length.

Orochi and SpaceGodzilla both took notice first, with the former’s eyes widening and the latter’s narrowing. Recognition and worry. Tsubasa didn’t blame the eight-forked serpent; for she was wearing the very weapon that had lopped off its heads once.

No, she _was_ that weapon. Ame-no-Habakiri and Tsubasa Kazanari were not separate things. That was what she told herself as she allowed the song within her heart to take hold, and took a deep breath to release it and grant herself strength.

The opening words were soft, uttered almost like a prayer, or a mantra.

_Tsumi… metsu …kyō… goku… zetsu… tō..._

Tsubasa lifted her blade, eyes closed, calming herself. Stilling herself. The Armed Gear’s edge began to shine as power gathered.

_Aku… gyō… soku… shun… satsu…_

Orochi shook several of its heads, retreating with a chorus of hisses, while SpaceGodzilla’s crystals glowed as it prepared to release that twisting, winding beam attack it had aimed at Mothra.

And then, Tsubasa was off. The armor provided the backing track as always, and it was that style of music that was uniquely Tsubasa, equal parts traditional Japanese instruments and pounding modern guitars, electric percussion. They flowed from her as she darted toward the towering beast that now threatened the island, solidifying her presence on this battlefield.

_Jagi no tōboe no zan'on ga gekka ni umeki kurū_

Her power multiplied as she sang in earnest, raining her One Thousand Tears on SpaceGodzilla’s front to cover her approach. The massive beast snarled angrily at the assault of small projectiles, but still leaned down and took a swipe at the approaching guardian.

_Koyoi no waga kiba no kireaji ni dōjō suru_

Tsubasa slipped between its clawed fingers and let herself land on the forest floor, beneath the cover of the trees. One of SpaceGodzilla’s feet lifted to stomp her flat, but she was simply moving too fast to be caught by such an attempt.

_Sonata no kaimyō ni shirusu ji wo dō horu ka? Meiji se yo_

In doing so, SpaceGodzilla also created an opening that Yamata-no-Orochi took with borderline relish. Tsubasa delayed her next move to let the snake do its thing. One head, resembling a bush viper, sank its fangs into the relatively unprotected flesh of the titan’s bicep, while the eight-forked serpent’s rattlesnake head went for the throat. Enough venom to fill a small pool was poured into SpaceGodzilla’s bloodstream from two locations, and with their tasks done, the two heads retreated.

_Danmatsuma no jisei no ku wa: Ah… zehi mo nashi_

Tsubasa filled the void, a sword in each outstretched hand, on either side of her like wings and wreathed in flames. An attack that, once upon a time, had taken everything Tsubasa had to execute. Now, a year later, it was a simple matter to employ what she had come to call the Soaring Phoenix Slash.

The crimson jets of fire flashed to a deep blue, and then Tsubasa rammed SpaceGodzilla in the face, scorching and slashing its hide.

_Shosen wa kemono to kawaranu no ka? Sabi ni ore yuku no ka?_

Tsubasa leapt back out of the smoke, still high in the air as SpaceGodzilla hissed in pain, clutching at its burnt snout. At a telepathic call, crystal shards rocketed towards Tsubasa, glittering and sharp. An inescapable death by skewering was the half-alien titan’s intent for the human guardian.

_Mayoi madoi, tsukinu hibi yo, saredo ima wa_

Tsubasa just extended the wing-blades at her ankles, then went to work. A sword on each limb, Tsubasa danced on the air, cutting apart every projectile that came her way. With that done, as crystal powder rained down around her, Tsubasa met SpaceGodzilla’s familiar orange eyes with her own indigo ones. She found that, unlike the pair belonging to the genuine article, these eyes did not intimidate her.

Or perhaps she was strong enough now that neither would?

_Gedō ni ai no issen wo: "aku, gyō, soku, shun, satsu"_

The twin toxins injected into SpaceGodzilla began to show their effects at that moment; even as the bush viper head’s neurotoxin made it stagger, the rattlesnake venom began destroying muscles and flesh in the titan’s neck. SpaceGodzilla gagged and stumbled as some of its throat scales came loose from the necrotized tissue beneath. Tsubasa got a good look at the damage as she fell past, then heard the telltale trill of Mothra’s approach.

_Garō no hikaru kiba wa mizukara wo mo kowashi messu moroha no yō_

She fell just fast enough to get out of the way of the great insect _throwing_ Baragon at SpaceGodzilla. His red-hot horn pierced the weakened armor of the space monster’s neck with ease, and the impact of his full body weight nearly knocked the already off-kilter behemoth to the ground. SpaceGodzilla barely managed to seize Baragon by the shoulders and yank his horn out of its trachea, but when it tried to swipe its spiked tail at Mothra, it found the appendage pinned to the ground by both Evangelions. What should have been a furious screech came only as a wet gurgle when a snap kick from King Caesar shattered SpaceGodzilla’s kneecap, and all the while Tsubasa peppered the monster’s chest with repeated Blue Flashes, the blades of energy acting as yet another source of pain. It was almost overwhelming.

_Hagishiri nagara chi wo fuku koto mo shiriete nao mo kū_

And then the purple glow about SpaceGodzilla’s crystals burned bright and angry, and a wave of telekinetic power surged from its entire body, successfully shoving every single assailant backward at varying speeds. Tsubasa just managed to stab the earth to stop from being flung miles away. Orochi coiled to reduce its surface area, but the likes of Baragon, Caesar, and the Evas were launched once more into the air. SpaceGodzilla groaned in pain as its body fought the venom, while Tsubasa found it difficult to rise to her feet; her armor was pitted and cracked in a lot of places, though quickly repairing itself.

_Tsurugi wa tsurugi to shika yobenu no ka? Chigau, tomo wa Tsubasa to yobu_

Evidently, SpaceGodzilla’s power contained _some_ of Shénshòujìng’s relic-destroying energies, diluted and weakened but still more potent against the Symphogear than the average kaiju attack. As the last bits of damage faded and her strength returned, Tsubasa lifted the Armed Gear, infusing it with her song and her will, before throwing it end-over-end above her. New metamaterial enlarged it, turning it once again into a broadsword the length of an eighteen-wheeler, with engines roaring at its oversized hilt. Tsubasa’s Heaven’s Wrath.

_Waga na wa... "yume wo habataku mono" nari!_

Tsubasa followed it, leaping to meet it, and drove her heel into the handle. The force of her kick, aided by the thrusters in her wings plus the thrusters attached to the sword, sent the giant blade directly into SpaceGodzilla’s gut. It sank in deep and added another grievous wound to the space kaiju’s growing tally. Restoring her armor and forming that attack in quick succession had taken a lot out of her, though, so Tsubasa ended her song there, pausing to let the kaiju step in.

And step in they did.

Baragon revealed what he had spent so much time doing underground by stomping his foot in exactly the right spot with exactly enough power to trigger the pit trap he’d dug. The ground beneath SpaceGodzilla’s feet caved in under its weight, sending the giant tumbling into a pit that left it waist-deep in the earth. 

Still thoroughly discombobulated by its wounds and the venom, SpaceGodzilla braced its arms on the edge of the hole instead of lifting itself out with its telekinesis, allowing King Caesar to rush in and break its elbows with well-placed snap kicks. Mothra returned to scorch the crystal monster’s scales from above with her beams, and Unit-02 clambered onto its back once more, this time to put SpaceGodzilla in a headlock.

Wounded, disoriented, and besieged on all sides, SpaceGodzilla was experiencing sensory overload. A powerful sense of self-preservation rolled over it in that moment. Before, when the red Evangelion had stabbed it, SpaceGodzilla had experienced fight-or-flight for the very first time, and had quickly chosen to fight.

It was reconsidering that decision.

SpaceGodzilla’s arms healed with resounding cracks, and the mineral monster wasted no time reaching up and ripping Unit-02 off its back. Energy pulsed through its body once again, but this time it did not project that power outward.

It sent the power _down._

An entire square kilometer of land erupted in a dark plume of dirt and vegetation. Screaming with rage and pain, SpaceGodzilla wobbled into the air as it prepared to make its escape.

Then it felt fangs sink into its thigh, and looked down to find the cobra head of Orochi biting it. All seven other heads followed suit, some with venomous fangs and some without, and tried to drag SpaceGodzilla back to the ground. When that didn’t work, with nothing but physical might, Orochi lifted itself up and began to wrap its body around SpaceGodzilla like a python, still striking various points with envenomed fangs.

This time, though, as SpaceGodzilla struggled to rise with an extra 95,000 tons of kaiju constricting it, the venom seemed to not be taking effect. Orochi paused in its strikes for a moment to inspect the wounds.

It found the venom dripping down SpaceGodzilla’s scales, rather than flowing through its blood. The titan had telekinetically stopped the toxins’ injection.

Orochi did not let that deter it, and just squeezed tighter as SpaceGodzilla went higher and higher. Mothra followed at a safe distance, occasionally zapping any exposed patch of space monster skin that appeared from between Orochi’s green coils. SpaceGodzilla used its power too, trying to use its mind to wrench the snake off, but Yamata-no-Orochi wasn’t budging.

Higher and higher the titans went, the air cooling and heating as they passed different boundaries of the upper atmosphere. Okinawa shrank away before their eyes, and soon the curve of Earth was visible. The Japanese mainland appeared; so did Korea. Then Taiwan.

Soon, Mothra could follow no higher. Blue sky faded to the night backdrop of the edge of space. Frost began to form on the snake’s scales. SpaceGodzilla glared defiantly into the eyes of the cobra head, communicating a clear message: _if you hang on, you will die._

Orochi’s cobra head spat venom in its eyes and let go.

The enormous snake hit terminal velocity quickly, and was so high up that it began to heat up as it fell into a thickening atmosphere. The world rushed up to meet Yamata-no-Orochi, but so did Earth’s strongest defender, the Divine Moth.

Mothra grabbed hold of the eight-forked serpent with all six legs and spread her great wings to their full 275-meter span to act as an air brake. Despite the immense mass of Orochi, her wings held strong and very, very gradually, the two slowed down.

But they didn’t stop.

Mothra had to let go about half a kilometer above the ground, and as such Orochi slammed into the premade crater with less force than the meteorite, but still enough to shake the local area and force Tsubasa to shield her eyes from flying dust. Mothra had to take a turn out over the ocean to spend her momentum, but banked to return to the island in short order. She perched on Baragon’s scaly back and waited.

Yamata-no-Orochi was visibly furious as it surged from the dust cloud of its own making, hissing angrily at all the assembled beings that had come. The snake was able to snarl at each and every one of them with a different head, but the cobra with the vibrant red hood was focused particularly on Unit-02. It hissed and bellowed, but all Asuka could do was pull back on the yokes to retreat, for she knew not what Orochi said.

It thought Unit-02 was a kaiju. 

That got Mothra’s attention. She, of course, had her suspicions about those things, but what _were_ they, really? What did the subtle qualities she had observed about them entail? She was half-tempted to pick one up and airlift it to Infant Island. But first she had to stop her fellow Guardian from ripping it limb from limb.

She took off and hovered between Orochi and Unit-02, chittering disapprovingly at the larger kaiju. Orochi reluctantly backed off with a chorus of hisses, but then the eyes of its python head found a blue speck beneath the remains of the forest canopy.

_Uh oh,_ thought Tsubasa.

Trees fell with resounding crashes as the snake’s colossal body rippled over the ground, coiling into a great ring around the lone Symphogear wielder.

_“Tsubasa, what’s going on?”_ Genjuro asked over comms.

“A bit of a situation,” she replied, tense. “I’ll attempt to defuse it.”

Orochi rose to its full height, all eight heads glaring down at her. The cobra snarled, and a trill from Mothra answered it, though its slit-pupiled eyes never left the human encircled by its emerald scales.

Tsubasa almost raised her Armed Gear defensively, but quickly realized that was a terrible idea. In fact, leaving the armor on was probably what had the eight-headed snake so frazzled.

Ame-no-Habakiri vanished in wisps of blue light, and Tsubasa’s clothes returned to her. All sixteen of Orochi’s eyes widened, with a few heads even leaning closer, their forked tongues flicking out at the fading phonic energy that had just comprised her Symphogear.

The cobra head leaned all the way down and turned sideways to fix her in the gaze of one gigantic amber eye. The reptile’s blood had been warmed significantly by its red-hot descent to the ground, and Tsubasa could feel the monster’s body heat at this distance. Its slit pupil alone was as tall as she was.

Tsubasa had long since ceased to be intimidated by the prospect of battling kaiju. Even so, here before the eight-forked serpent, she couldn’t help the instinctive anxiety that crept into her. There were few things besides kaiju that could so effectively make a person feel so very… small.

The eye blinked, the head retreated, and more dust was kicked up as Orochi uncoiled. At length, the multi-headed beast relaxed somewhat, though some of its heads still glared at the red Evangelion. 

Baragon let out a high-pitched cry, looking back and forth between the biomechs and the colossal snake. King Caesar stood still as a statue. Nobody was quite sure what to do with the battle over, but the threat still remaining high above. 

Tsubasa turned and started walking, making her way to a nearby clearing where Ogawa had the helicopter hovering. Mothra chirped at her departure, and for the first time Tsubasa heard the voice of the Goddess directly, an ability Mothra seldom used. Her voice was smooth, calm, and musical.

_Thank you for coming, Wielder. Your help was invaluable._

Tsubasa’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t really do anything. That creature is still out there.”

_That may be so. However, you were able to help keep it contained here. Nobody lost their life today, and that is thanks in part to you._

The guardian shook her head. “I still should’ve done more.”

A few minutes after the helicopter had gone, Orochi’s body at last turned back to the sea, hundreds of meters of scales sliding over soil and sand to return to the water. The cobra head’s glare remained fixed on Unit-02 until it slipped beneath the waves. The JSDF ships, as well as NERV’s carrier and SONG HQ, once more parted to make way for the titanic serpent.

“Yeesh,” Asuka said, shuddering. “That thing freaks me out.”

“ _That’s_ what you take from this?” Shinji groaned, “Not that you messed up?”

Asuka immediately deflected, “Say, Orochi was like… evil in the myths, right? Why do you think it’s protecting people now?”

“Don’t change the subject!”

The ground shook as King Caesar approached the pair of biomechs, much taller than itself.

“What’s this thing’s deal?” muttered the redheaded pilot.

The golem just stared with unblinking jeweled eyes. Observing, getting readings.

Then it sat down. 

Asuka blinked. “Uh… okay?”

Shinji, meanwhile, found himself face-to-face with none other than Baragon, who was sniffing Unit-01 investigatively. Shinji hesitantly thumbed the yokes, lifting the Evangelion’s hands to gently but firmly push Baragon’s intruding nose away. He backed off immediately, creating a small tremor by sitting down on his haunches. The monster blinked, his huge floppy ears moving occasionally, rather like a dog’s.

“Uhh…” Shinji said, “Good… kaiju?”

He reached out and patted the top of Baragon’s scaly head. The Guardian let out an appreciative wail.

“Huh,” said Shinji.

Far, far above, in the Earth’s thermosphere, SpaceGodzilla glared down at the landmass it had just left, the skin around its eyes still tender from the venom that had been sprayed into them. The beast found it had landed on a very, very small island, and that the world it now orbited was absolutely full of land, much of it seemingly unspoiled. From up here, SpaceGodzilla could scout the world for a place to land and make its home. 

After all, it was clearly unwelcome on that island.

Minute uses of its telekinetic power kept its orbit stable. Other than that, gravity did all of the work carrying it around the planet. SpaceGodzilla, of course, knew not of those words or what they meant. It just knew what it had to do to keep from falling, somehow.

Here and there, it both saw and sensed floating hunks of metal high up with it. Most emitted radio signals. Some had warm bodies on them. The strangest thing it sensed, however, was a huge _mix_ of the warmth of organic life and the coldness of artifice. It was moving much faster than the other satellites, too. 

Then it screamed around the curve of the Earth, astoundingly fast, and came to a stop in front of SpaceGodzilla.

Burning orange eyes met a gleaming crimson visor.

Gigan leaned forward, scrutinizing this newcomer in his domain. His sensors had known there was something weird about that asteroid, but none of his simulations had predicted anything quite like _this._

He just floated there, a few kilometers away, the blue-white-green backdrop of the Earth behind him, and watched.

SpaceGodzilla stared back.

The whole battle was broadcast all over the world. It made history as the biggest documented group of kaiju in one place in recorded human history. One of the Symphogear wielders appearing also sparked speculation, though as always, the unique power of the armor made it so that artificial microphones could not properly pick up the song.

Not every kaiju response organization had the battle’s footage up on their monitors, though. One in particular was preoccupied with its own, far more pressing matters.

The Pan-Pacific Defense Corps, having lost its early warning system quite literally overnight, was in a state of near-panic. Everybody was up doing their jobs fervently, because such an unprecedented situation called for an unprecedented response.

Stacker Pentecost had pulled up all of the Shatterdome Marshals in a video call, and had a fast-paced but productive discussion regarding how best to deal with the development. They didn’t know how or why the early-warning network was destroyed, but they also knew that that was secondary to making sure civilians were still safe. The eventual plan that they settled on was radical, and sure to be incredibly expensive, but it was also their best bet.

Until they could restore the Early-Warning Network, the PPDC would have _every single Jaeger_ deployed every night. Their inbuilt sensors would be hastily upgraded to detect Breachers on approach up to 75 miles offshore, and they would patrol different stretches of coastline between population centers. For Rangers, the day would become a time of rest, because they would have to be up from dusk until dawn. The coming night would be the first attempt of this interim system, and all were hopeful that it would prove effective. If they were _really_ lucky, the Breachers would not even attack.

They didn’t know it, but they would _not_ be that lucky. As the sun crept lower in the sky over the Pacific, it was not just the Breachers that prepared to move, but the thousands of smaller creatures that had obliterated the early-warning network.

There was one other thing that the PPDC didn’t know, however, as Rangers joined their minds and took their Jaegers out to pace in the shallows. They didn’t know that they would have help.

When the tremor hit, Manda felt panic flood her veins.

It was far too close, and far too strong. She feared damage to the ruins she so fervently protected.

And yet, as she searched the underwater remains of her former home for damage, or a source, she found nothing.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, a flash. It looked almost like a burst of fire, underwater. Curious, the great sea serpent moved to where she’d seen it, taking her out of the ruins of Mu. She ended up about 5 kilometers outside the old city limits, observing a peculiar trail of bubbles and residual energy that lead toward the surface.

She looked down, where the bubbles were less numerous and more spread out, and her searchlight eyes picked out a hole in the seafloor. Manda was confused, because she had confirmed long ago that no Breacher nurseries were that close to Mu.

As she swam down, however, and investigated the hole, what she found was not a Breacher nursery.

It was a laboratory.

It was in a state of disarray, of course, due to the immediate flooding it had experienced with its ceiling blown open, but much of it was intact. A great cradle, now empty, was anchored to one wall, with long-unused tools of Muan science nearby. Manda knew not of this place. How was that possible? How many other secrets had her people kept?

When she turned, the high-beams of her eyes fell on something far more interesting than a cradle.

It was, unmistakably, a huge set of blueprints. 

Manda, literate in Muan, read them. All the little notes, calculations, specifications of the creature drawn on the wall. It was designed as a perfect union of flesh and the “living stone” that powered Muan technology. At its core rested an inexhaustible energy source, intended to keep the creation running for tens of millennia without rest, if necessary.

Strangest of all was its form, however. Unless Manda was mistaken, the stylized drawing on the blueprint was depicting none other than a great bipedal turtle.

Manda eased more of her body into the chamber, moving her head further down, near the bottom, to a short paragraph of smaller, hastily written Muan script. It read almost like a _post-scriptum._

Manda blinked as she read on. When she finished, the sea serpent about-faced, swimming out of the laboratory as quickly as she could and casting her senses about, searching for this new creation. She had to link up with it, aid it.

For the final note made hope surge in her breast.

_To whomever may follow us, know our tale. Our people will be smote by the gods, for they have lost their way. Not we. We seek to undo their misdeeds, their final and most heinous Shadows of Evil, their Gyaos. Before Mu comes crashing down, we shall atone for the misdeeds of our kin with our own final creation. A protector of all mankind._

_Our Last Hope- our Gamera._

Manda found it. A unique but familiar signature, pulsing with raw power, already far away, headed for the mainland.

She would have to swim fast.

**CHAPTER XXII: Earth Defense Force**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh... how about that Godzilla vs. Kong trailer? Exciting, huh? My interpretation of Kong is meant to be a mix between Legendary and TOHO's, so he's got the old 1962 electricity. The Godzilla cast of kaiju has some REALLY dumb names sprinkled throughout, SpaceGodzilla among them, so I thought it'd be funny if this universe's Twitter gave it that dumb name. Baragon is best dog. Also, in case the subtext was unclear: Cagliostro Symphogear dommed Kaji Evangelion. The ladies' man bit off more than he could chew with that alchemist. Next chapter, the Guardian of the Universe offers a demonstration. Sorry for the wait once again, writing is hard. I wish I could pump these out faster, but I have chronic writer's block. Thanks for reading regardless! Comments and feedback are extremely appreciated.


	23. CHAPTER XXIII: The Guardian of the Universe

_ “The Kamoebas species, endemic to Selgio Island, is a most peculiar one. They are giant turtles, not quite large enough to be classed as kaiju but easily attaining megafaunal status. No, what is strange is that they are young. The two oldest members of the species are no older than twenty thousand years, and no fossils of a possible ancestral species have ever been unearthed. It’s as if Kamoebas simply appeared one day. This has led to speculation that they are the product of experiments by a precursor civilization, perhaps Mu. This, however, raises another question:  _ why  _ were they created?” _

**-From a March 2012 scientific journal.**

  
  


**> ’ The New Age of Monsters‘<**

  
  


One of the best-kept secrets in the history of MONARCH’s six-odd decades of existence was the small archipelago in the North Pacific Ocean that they had obtained ownership of in the late 1970s. Very few outside of the upper levels of world governments even knew that this place existed. It was so classified as to be erased from satellite imaging.

Even fewer knew the name it was commonly known by: Monster Island.

The place was a geographical and architectural miracle; with a decade of development and billions of taxpayer dollars from various world powers, MONARCH had constructed a perfect ring of rock in the seas surrounding the island. It was too tall for the average monster to clamber over, and too thick to break through easily. Should one attempt to do so, it would be deterred by well-placed maser batteries, making escape attempts so tedious and painful as to not be worth the trouble.

That had been the idea, and when they brought in their first captured kaiju in 1986, the giant dinosaur Gorosaurus, they had quickly discovered that it was effective. The colossal theropod had utterly failed in his escape attempt, and afterwards simply swam back to shore and began to explore his surroundings. It was captivity, but it was at least comfortable, for the islands were spacious enough to allow even a kaiju to roam freely.

More creatures were brought in over the next several decades, mostly smaller megafaunal creatures, like larger Skullcrawlers or normal-sized dinosaurs exiting the Hollow Earth. There was an entire colony of giant ants, a mutated whale-sized goblin shark dubbed Zigra, a renegade Sirenjaw crocodilian from Skull Island, the immense mutant squid Gezora, as well as the Giant Condor, the first and largest of the mutated raptorial birds that had grown to number in the thousands since the kaiju returned to the world.

Gorosaurus also gained a couple of proper kaiju roommates as the years went on, all of them airlifted in by fleets of VTOLs and helicopters. The only reason such vehicles could even bear the massive weight of kaiju was thanks to study of Mothra’s silk and Kumonga’s webbing, which allowed the human race to engineer incredibly durable, hypertensile cables.

In 1997, they dropped in the tusked, sloth-like mammalian titan called Mapinguari. In 2008, it was the misshapen beast that attempted to attack New York City that year, a suspected extraterrestrial commonly nicknamed “Clover”. Gorosaurus had quickly discovered that that one was a weakling, a lightweight with thin skin and little in the way of natural weaponry. Perhaps in a world unaccustomed to kaiju, the alien might have laid waste to New York, but with the human race so battle-hardened, Clover had barely made it out of the bay before it was besieged by heavy weapons and maser turrets.

This was curiously similar to the case of the last monster to move on the Big Apple a decade before, with Zilla’s appearance in 1998. That one had at least taken out a few buildings, including Madison Square Garden, before it was driven back into the Atlantic. The real damage done was by the American military mistaking him for Godzilla, which was where the hyper-evolved dromaeosaurid got his name. Even after MONARCH confirmed that  _ no,  _ he was  _ not  _ Godzilla, the creature’s uncanny resemblance resulted in the “God” being removed in his case.

Overall, New York had made it through the Age of Monsters and its interim shockingly unscathed. The MONARCH staff on Monster Island liked to bully Clover about that from their safe perch in the Outpost up on the rocky wall, having even developed a running joke about the gangly beast holding the world record for “least successful kaiju attack”.

They weren’t laughing that night, however, because all three kaiju inhabitants of Monster Island had their heads upturned, glaring at the night sky as spotlights on the wall ring illuminated wheeling crimson shapes.

A few of the Gyaos had attempted to get into Monster Island, but a barrier made of the same energy that was fired from maser cannons barred their entry, just as it barred fliers like the Giant Condor from escaping. One of the smaller ones had actually  _ exploded  _ on contact with the force field, though the rest simply retreated with stinging burns. 

“What the hell  _ are  _ those?” muttered one woman even as Gorosaurus’s bellowing roar echoed over Monster Island. If he was disquieted at the creatures’ presence, they had to mean trouble.

One of the smaller Gyaos let out that horrible piercing screech and aimed its tuning-fork tongue at the monsters below. A short hum ensued and then the same beam of sound that had spelled the doom of the Breacher Early-Warning Network shot down, utterly unimpeded by the energy barrier in its way.

The beam sliced a line in the skin on Clover’s head, prompting the bizarre creature to wail and slap one of its multiple hands over the wound. Had the Gyaos been one of the larger ones, the attack might have cut deep enough to kill the fragile kaiju.

The largest Gyaos, easily the size of the Giant Condor that inhabited the islands below, scratched at the transparent barrier one last time before deciding that getting into this place was not worth the trouble. The murder of Gyaos could harass the kaiju below, certainly, but they could not get in to make their nests, to create more of themselves.

Even as the kaiju of Monster Island glared defiantly (or in Clover’s case, cowered), the bat-reptile abominations dispersed, flying to who knows where and leaving a gaggle of very concerned witnesses within the MONARCH Outpost. Among them, the woman who’d spoken earlier. She happened to be a seasoned ornithologist, intrigued most of all by the strange creatures’ appearance. She immediately made up her mind to head to the mainland and see if she could learn more by waiting there.

Gorosaurus, who largely didn’t care about being a glorified prisoner, nonetheless found himself wondering exactly what he would miss in the wider world by staying put.

Mandatory evacuation orders went out for coastal cities that night, so nobody was around to feel the ground shake with the nearby footsteps of the dozens of Jaegers that patrolled the Pacific Ocean’s beaches. Still, it would’ve been quite the sight to see. 

All over the Pacific Rim, the mechs marched. Dozens of Mark IVs, several Mark Vs, and of course, the small handful of Mark VIs. Jet Jaguar patrolled South America, Platinum Vulture soared above Japan. 

Out in the Pacific’s dark waters, the engineered horrors of Mu’s Breacher program ripped free of the ocean floor and zeroed in on cities. In its skies, star-studded or clouded over, the Gyaos took wing with a similar goal in mind.

The chief weapons of the Shadows of Evil, their supersonic scalpels, had been designed with the intention of targeting key joints and tendons on opposing kaiju, allowing them to be brought down with minimal extra tissue damage. When the first murder of Gyaos encountered a Jaeger off northern China, the monsters discovered that their beams worked just as well on metal giants. 

Caught completely off-guard by the small creatures, the Jaeger was toppling forward before its pilots even realized the mech’s knees no longer supported its weight. More thin beams took out the elbows as the pair of Rangers screamed maydays into their comms, only to be finally silenced as a Gyaos ripped open the Conn Pod to find its meal.

Word spread quickly to the other Shatterdomes, and all the pilots were alerted to the danger the Gyaos posed, ensuring no more would lose their lives to surprise attacks. Whether they could manage the Gyaos at all, though, remained untested.

Next to run across a group of the flying monsters was none other than Platinum Vulture itself, ten thousand feet in the air.

The superior armor of the Mark VI made itself useful as the first supersonic scalpel glanced off the Vulture’s chest, prompting Haruo and Yuko within to turn the mech’s head to find their attacker. 

What their floodlights illuminated was dozens of them.

“Shatterdome,” Yuko said, “We’ve just made contact.”

_ “Breacher or otherwise?” _

“Otherwise,” Haruo chimed in. “It’s those flying things.”

Marshal Aso joined the line.  _ “Be careful. You’re better equipped to handle those than most, but we still don’t fully know what they’re capable of.” _

“Roger. Engaging combat.”

Haruo and Yuko each cycled through the weapons on their respective arms. Though Vulture was more than capable in close quarters, it was primarily designed with ranged attacks in mind, and as such had quite a few projectile weapons built into each arm. Haruo equipped a wrist-mounted maser cannon, while Yuko had her arm bear high-caliber physical rounds. Plenty enough to kill  _ these. _

The issue was that these were almost too small. Even while wheeling about with practiced control over their wings, Haruo and Yuko struggled to hit the Gyaos with weapons designed for proper kaiju. The maser, due to its status as an energy weapon rather than a physical projectile, proved to be the only thing capable of hitting the tiny targets. The issue was that the bigger ones didn’t go down with one pass from a maser.

A Gyaos the size of a bus latched onto Vulture’s upper leg, digging its claws into the armor and searching with its horrible yellow eyes for a weak spot to slice apart. Before it could, Yuko reached down and ripped it off, crushing it to death in Vulture’s hand, but there were still more coming.

Waiting outside the swirling swarm of monsters, the biggest of the Gyaos just watched, letting its smaller companions wear the machine down. Their creators had designed the Gyaos to grow smarter with size, so this one had a keen sense of strategy, though it could not quite be called sapient. Easily thirty meters tall, it would be capable of taking down the machine after its cohorts wore the silver giant’s armor out.

It was a bit perplexed by it, though. Its brain had been programmed with knowledge of the human race and the gods that protected it, but this thing was not made of flesh. It seemed to the Gyaos more like the equipment in its nest, that had nourished it from a single cell to a fully formed creature in a matter of weeks. 

A dozen of the group had fallen to the waves below or simply exploded by that point, but the flying giant was smoking in several places too. It was far from nonfunctional, and still spraying maser currents like no tomorrow, but the damage had been done.

The big Gyaos swooped in for the kill.

Haruo and Yuko just managed to catch its talons and lock them with Vulture’s fingers.

“Shit!”

The Gyaos let out that awful warbling scream and fired its supersonic scalpel, cutting away three of the engines on their left wing. Vulture dropped like a rock for several hundred feet before the remaining engines increased thrust to balance them out, but the little Gyaos were attacking now too, their beams carving away little chunks of armor, slicing muscle fibers. With the big one holding their arms, they were nearly overwhelmed.

_ We have to get this one off, somehow!  _ Yuko thought.

_ Obviously, but how? _

_ “Vulture!” _

The third voice was not in the Drift, but over comms. “ _ Vulture, do you copy?” _

“We copy!” Yuko cried.

“Maybe not for much longer!” Haruo added as they spun through the air with the big one like a pair of grappling raptorial birds, both Jaeger and monster refusing to let go.

_ “Listen, we have a new contact heading your way.” _

“We’re a little busy with the  _ current  _ contacts!” protested Yuko.

_ “No, the fact that we can even detect it means this isn’t one of them! It’s moving way too fast- faster than anything I’ve ever seen!” _

“Faster… than… Rodan?” asked Haruo through gritted teeth as the strain on Vulture’s arm was translated to his own nervous system.

_ “Mach 4! Other than that, all we know is that it’s spinning!” _

“A flying saucer?” Yuko pondered, “Wouldn’t shock me, honestly.”

_ “It’s coming straight at you. With your visibility, you might be able to see it.” _

Haruo and Yuko had stopped listening by that point, because they were still cartwheeling, tumbling end-over-end towards the Pacific in their little game of chicken with the big Gyaos. In a bold move, they ended it by yanking sideways, throwing off the genetic amalgamation long enough to pull their fingers apart and punch the monster right in its bony face.

The Drift made their wills into one as the Rangers gunned their remaining engines to ascend, once again spitting maser fire at the monsters as they rose, now scanning for this supposed new threat. When thermals detected the enormous approaching mass, the pair switched back to visuals and peered in its direction.

They actually heard it first, just like with Rodan. Instead of a constant piercing whine like the pterosaur’s approach, though, the sound rose and fell repeatedly as it grew louder, a pulsating sound accompanied by a low roar.

Then the clouds parted, and a huge dark object spewing four jets of flame ripped through the air, curved around Platinum Vulture, and shredded a dozen Gyaos with the sheer speed of its revolutions.

“Shatterdome, we’ve… made contact.”

_ “Can you see it? What is it?” _

“We’re as stumped as you are.”

The bizarre spinning thing turned on a veritable dime to rocket towards the big Gyaos, which barely managed to avoid impact with a great flap of its wings. When the glowing yellow beam fired from its mouth, the attack simply glanced off the newcomer, much as the smaller Gyaos’ versions had been deflected by Vulture’s armor.

“Whatever it is, it’s got better armor than we do.”

The big Gyaos let out that shrill scream and all of the remaining smaller ones charged. Minute adjustments in the new thing’s thrusters had it practically dancing through the air, changing its angles and strategically placing its exhaust jets exactly where they could burn Gyaos to ash. 

Whatever this was, it was built for battle, engineered to destroy its opponents. The sparkle of intelligence in the big Gyaos’s split-pupiled eyes turned to fear as it watched all of its batch-mates reduced to smoldering carbon, and it screamed its frustration at the spinning thing even as the soundwaves built within its throat again.

Haruo and Yuko just watched.

The thing’s thrusters reversed, slowing its rotation to a halt, and with that the Rangers could finally see what it was. At first, they believed their eyes were failing them, even with the Drift joining their minds and confirming that they were both seeing the same thing.

It was a shell.

Two of the thrusters roared before cutting out entirely, and the remaining two increased their own output to keep the thing in the air. Where the thrusters had been, there instead emerged massive, powerful arms that ended in a limb that was paradoxically both a flipper and clawed hand. Then came a long neck from a hole that opened as they watched, supporting a scaly, beaked head with ferocious tusks and round, intelligent eyes.

It was a kaiju.

It was a giant turtle.

A flying one.

Gamera, the Muans’ Guardian of the Universe, opened his toothy mouth wide and roared, a trumpeting, almost elephantine declaration of war. It wasn’t only the big Gyaos that heard it.

_ All  _ of the Gyaos heard it. The Breachers heard it, the kaiju of Earth heard it, even SpaceGodzilla and Gigan heard it. So did almost every bioacoustic sensor apparatus on the planet. 

_ Patch our visual feed through to the Shatterdome. _

_ On it. _

With Gamera holding still, Haruo and Yuko had ample time to take in the details of the terrapin titan’s strange appearance. His shell was a deep, almost glossy black, and was composed of dozens of sharp segments rather than being a single mass of bone. In their floodlights Gamera’s scales were a deep, dark green, with his plastron a pale, earthy color. Like the shell, the plastron, too, was segmented, with a gentle orange glow shining from between them, pulsing like a heartbeat even as his lower thrusters roared. 

The Gyaos screamed another challenge at him, but Gamera’s only response was to draw on his power and form a glowing ball of plasma in his mouth. 

The fireball lit up the night as the big Gyaos was blasted apart, burning chunks of the reptilian bird making the long fall to the Pacific’s turbulent waters.

Gamera turned to look at Platinum Vulture as the mech’s engines sputtered to keep it in the air.

_ Arms up, Yuko. _

_ Wait, Haruo. He went after those bird things. We might not be an enemy to him. Keep our posture relaxed and stow the weapons on our arms. _

_ Don’t blame me if he gets the drop on us. _

The masers retracted into Vulture’s arms as the Mark VI hovered, “face” to face with this new, impossible kaiju.

Gamera nodded at them, tucked his head and arms in, ignited the other two thrusters, and spun off into the night.

Haruo and Yuko tuned out the various warning notifications as they made for shallower water to land Vulture and rest its thrusters. No words were spoken, because they were instead passed between them in their shared Drift.

_ So, we’ve got a rocket-propelled turtle now. _

_ We’ve also got nuclear-powered reptiles, cyborg chickens, and are currently flying a giant robot. I’m shocked that you’re shocked, Haruo. _

_ Yeah, yeah. That doesn’t make it less weird that that thing shoots fire out of the holes in its shell. No way nature could make something like that. _

_ Nature didn’t make the Breachers. I doubt it made whatever those birds are. Who’s to say that turtle isn’t a similar case? _

_ You might have a point. _

Platinum Vulture’s legs nearly buckled when they landed. 

“LOCCENT, this is Platinum Vulture. We’re at sixty percent functionality. Do we return to base?”

_ “Negative, Platinum Vulture. We’ve got two Cat Fours on track for landfall in your stretch of coastline.” _

“Why the hell didn’t you tell us?” Haruo snarled.

_ “Early-warning system is out, remember? We can’t detect Breachers until they’re close to shore. We can only estimate their size, too, so it’s possible those aren’t Cat Fours at all.” _

Yuko sighed. “Point us at them.”

A map with a pair of dots appeared on their HUD.

The earth quaked as the eighty-meter mech began to walk.

“Out of curiosity, how is everywhere else doing?”

_ “Sandalphon is fighting Jet Jaguar as we speak. No word on Shamshel, but we have satellites tracking Sahaquiel, since it’s flying above the surface. That one’s circling Hawaii.” _

“Any new ones?” asked Yuko.

_ “No new Cat Fives yet, but we’ve had nothing below Cat Four making contact. You and one other are the only Jaegers to encounter those weird flying things, and… only you made it out.” _

Haruo hummed. “Let’s hope, for everyone’s sake, that there aren’t too many more of those.” 

Asagi Kusanagi, who lived far enough inland to not need to evacuate and was as such experiencing a quiet evening in her apartment, pressed her fingertips into her temples as she sat on her futon. She sat because she felt faint enough that she did not trust her legs to support her.

And then there were the images flashing under her eyelids, and the second heartbeat pounding against her chest.

She fished the magatama out of her shirt, beheld the gentle glow that had overtaken the bead, as well as the thin blue lines criss-crossing it.

“What the hell are you?”

She closed her hands around the family heirloom and kept her eyes shut, letting the strange images continue to play in her mind’s eye.

Asagi was flying, high over the ocean. Despite the night, she could clearly see the sea’s surface far below, the clouds around her, and the  _ nightmares with wings  _ that circled her.

She wasn’t in control of her own body. She felt her arm raising of its own accord, but what she saw was not the pale skin of her human hand but rather a scaly, clawed flipper.

She felt her mouth open, felt heat gather in her throat, and watched a ball of burning plasma blast forth and reduce one of the monsters to molten mush. 

Asagi sat there, dead to the world around her as she looked through the eyes of this strange flying creature, watched it dismantle every single one of the winged nightmares.

She watched it dive into the dark waters and slam into one of those blue-blooded monsters- Breachers, the PPDC had called them- only to find another creature already choking the life out of it. A sense of recognition, of familiarity, washed over Asagi unbidden, but she herself only recognized the other kaiju as Manda after the sea serpent turned her searchlight eyes toward her.

Then Manda spoke, and Asagi could no longer keep watching. A mind like hers was not suited to experience the words of the gods.

Her eyes flew open with a gasp, sweat plastering her clothes to her skin, as the magatama cooled in her hand.

She sat there for a few more minutes, trying to calm her breathing, her heart rate. Experimentally, she took the necklace off and placed the still slightly warm bead a fair distance away on the floor. It continued to pulse unabated, and Asagi still felt the indescribable connection. For a moment, she debated seeing a doctor.

Then, slipping the magatama back around her neck, “First step is… to meet this thing. Then I might get some answers.”

And so Asagi slipped into a jacket and left, thankful deep down for the kaiju-sized excuse to escape the doldrums of her day-to-day life.

Manda watched the Breacher’s corpse sink with nothing but contempt in her eyes. Before her floated Gamera, watching her with pure patience in his. The turtle had waited millennia to be called to action, he had no issue waiting for Manda to continue.

She took in this last, greatest creation of her humans. He was a perfect union of living flesh and ancient technology, an unstoppable war machine with a kind soul. 

He asked her if she was Manda in a stunningly casual manner. It took her a moment to remember that despite his battle prowess and size, this kaiju was quite literally a newborn. Evidently he’d been programmed with a bit of knowledge of his purpose and her status as an ally, but other than that he was bursting with naivete. 

She tried not to be too curt in her response. The titanic terrapin nodded at her confirmation, and asked her where she was headed to next.

She told him that she would be checking around the ruins some more, her reasoning being that if  _ his  _ nursery’s location slipped under her radar, there might be more places she had yet to discover. Gamera just blinked at that, confusion on his beaked face.

Then, he asked her, in a manner not unlike a hatchling’s, if she knew about The System.

Manda tilted her head, and the turtle kaiju’s eyes widened.

As quickly and concisely as he could, Gamera relayed his pre-programmed knowledge. Manda’s face fell more and more as he continued, until her expression became unreadable as she glared through the dark waters in the direction of Mu’s ruins, hundreds of miles away. 

Gamera knew of her, but he had only _ known _ her for a few short minutes. Even so, the betrayal in her glowing eyes tugged at his proverbial heartstrings. Again and again she had let her love for her people get in the way of doing the right thing and stopping them, and now she- and every human up above- were paying the price.

He sensed her tightly restrained fury as the sea serpent darted through the water, back toward the ruins, likely to search for a way to access The System. Gamera watched her go for a long moment, then turned his face to the surface, gunning his lower thrusters.

Gamera breached the sea with a great roaring of engines, tucked his arms and head in, and ignited his upper thrusters as well, angling them to build up rotational momentum even as he rose higher. 

There were far too many Gyaos still out there for him to rest. He spun away, a vapor cone blooming around his shell as he broke the sound barrier, and rocketed to his next targets.

He was to do what he had been made for.

The Pan-Pacific Defense Corps, the Guardian of the Universe, the Deity of Mu, and the King of Skull Island fought through the night.

Sandalphon retreated from its battle with Jet Jaguar after a resounding defeat at the automated giant’s hands. Jet Jaguar itself was only moderately damaged, a testament to the resilience of a Mark VI’s armor. Curiously, the AI-piloted Jaeger had offered a thumbs-up in the general direction of the Santiago Shatterdome; something it wasn’t exactly programmed to do.

Hawaii, on the other hand, had far more trouble turning away Sahaquiel. At the cost of two of its Jaegers, millions in property damage, and several dozen civilian casualties, the island chain’s protectors managed to drive off the flying eye. Elsewhere, the lower-category Breachers were dealt with effectively by the PPDC’s prepared response. What gave them more trouble were more reports of the Gyaos.

A murder of the flying beasts split up over Central America, resulting in scattered sightings all over Mexico and the Yucatan. The smaller ones were unable to cause much damage, especially on their own, but every single one was more than capable of raiding both livestock and the people who kept it. To make matters worse, Gamera was nowhere near, because the flying turtle was far too focused on the larger Gyaos.

He was far more massive than even the biggest of the birdlike monsters for the moment, and as such none managed to so much as scratch his shell. Their supersonic scalpels, their talons, nothing got through his defense. And their wings most certainly could not carry them faster than Gamera’s jets. So while Gamera indeed flew and fought through the night, not once did he run into trouble. Unless one of the Gyaos was allowed to grow to its maximum size, he would be able to destroy any he encountered with ease.

Manda, deep beneath the waves, instead encountered the Muans’ other war machines. After hours of ripping up the ocean floor within the ruins, the sea serpent at last encountered a flooded hollow- a passageway leading into the earth. The moment she began to wind her scaly body into the opening, though, half a dozen positively  _ massive  _ Breachers erupted from the walls as her arrival triggered an automated defense system.

If nothing else, that told Manda that she was in the right place. One Breacher was no issue for her and never would be, but six at the same time quickly proved difficult. Considering she had already found what she needed, Manda called on her command over the water to push all six of the beasts back and retreat. As she expected, they did not follow. They were guards, and would undoubtedly be waiting there if-  _ when-  _ she made her return.

Far to the southeast, through flashing lightning and rolling thunder, King Kong battled against the Gyaos too. Though the great ape was bound to the land, the first few Gyaos large enough to weather Skull Island’s storm soon found that he was far from helpless at range. It was a simple matter for Kong to uproot trees and hurl them at the flying creatures with lethal accuracy, and when that failed, he could direct an electric current between his hands, the clouds, and the target Gyaos, creating a gigantic lightning bolt more than capable of frying the reptilian beasts. The only issue was tracking the monsters in Faro’s skies, which resulted in the endeavor taking most of the night. Not that day and night were distinguishable anymore, thanks to the storm.

One thing had become abundantly clear, all across the Pacific, to varying unrelated parties: the Muans’ creations were a far greater threat than anticipated. If not dealt with, they would overrun the world.

Manda struck out northwest from the ruins of Mu, beelining for a certain tiny island. Gamera sensed her course from afar and followed, even as reports of his existence began to surface online and in the morning papers. The world had changed again, very slightly, over the course of a single night. 

Far away from the Pacific, the sun shone down on a region called the Sahara. Formerly known as a desert, the entire place had become overgrown since 1989, a vast and uninterrupted expanse of green stretching across northern Africa. All that remained of the sand dunes that had once seemed to stretch on forever were the beaches of the Atlantic in the west, and the Red Sea to the east.

The latter was where a small, unlikely little group had disembarked from their vessel. The jungle’s edge loomed, welcoming but awe-inspiring, just a hundred meters from the water. Off in the distance, to the north, tall and foreboding peaks capped by snow were just visible; the youngest mountain range on Earth, raised over the course of a single year by Biollante, and Biollante alone.

The furthest person up the shoreline took it all in, pure wonder lighting her features. 

“Whoa…”

Hibiki paid no mind to the footsteps on the sand behind her as she looked at it all, but was forced to acknowledge the other person’s presence when their hand gently lifted her jaw to shut her mouth.

“You’ll catch flies, numbskull,” Chris joked, taking in the scenery with a bit more restraint. “Besides, save the shock n’ awe for when we actually get to her.”

“I guess so,” pouted Hibiki, folding her arms in a fake huff. “Don’t we have a long way to go, though?”

“It’s not like we’re walkin’. At least, not all the way. MONARCH’s ATV should get us pretty close before the jungle gets too thick. Then we get to meet the biggest, strongest kaiju in the world.”

Hibiki tilted her head in contemplation. “But couldn’t we get there way faster than any ATV?”

“That’d be fine if we were the only ones here. I don’t think our researcher friends would enjoy that kinda fast travel, y’know?”

“That’s a good point… oopsie.”

Chris let a smile creep onto her face as she watched Hibiki rub at the back of her head. “Try not to look too stupid in front’a Biollante, okay?”

  
**CHAPTER XXIII: The Guardian of the Universe**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's... really short, compared to the last few. It's sort of a hybrid of a setup chapter and an action chapter, but I felt like forcing myself to add on would've made it feel overstuffed with too many perspectives for too little time each. Next chapter, which should be longer, will be more focused on one or two points of view: mostly Hibiki and Chris accompanying a couple of MONARCH researchers on their expedition into the Biollante Rainforest. That chapter'll be releasing right around GvK time, now that I think about it.  
> As always, thank you for reading, and for providing your feedback in the comments. The support this fic has gotten absolutely blows my mind considering how niche its main two elements are.


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